“No. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. This vessel is now in the river, off Wapping. And though I say it that shouldn't say it, no man can tie a better knot. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely. . ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. " "Mr. Perhaps it was loneliness.
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