For that matter, my future be damned. The aunt laughed. “What was that?” she asked sharply. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. She called them back very soon. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. Maggot tenderly. Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their superiority as a race. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home.
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