CHAPTER VII.
THROUGH THE FRENCH WINDOW.....239
“Remorse she ne’er forsakes us; A bloodhound staunch, she tracks our rapid step.”
“A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire.”
THROUGH THE FRENCH WINDOW.....239
“Remorse she ne’er forsakes us; A bloodhound staunch, she tracks our rapid step.”
“A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire.”