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My Novel — Volume 07 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 68 of 111 (61%)
bridge, and saw the dull, lifeless craft sleeping on the "Silent Way,"
once loud and glittering with the gilded barks of the antique Seignorie
of England.

It was on that bridge that Audley Egerton had appointed to meet
L'Estrange, at an hour when he calculated he could best steal a respite
from debate. For Harley, with his fastidious dislike to all the resorts
of his equals, had declined to seek his friend in the crowded regions of
Bellamy's.

Harley's eye, as he passed along the bridge, was attracted by a still
form, seated on the stones in one of the nooks, with its face covered by
its hands. "If I were a sculptor," said he to himself, "I should
remember that image whenever I wished to convey the idea of Despondency!"
He lifted his looks and saw, a little before him in the midst of the
causeway, the firm, erect figure of Audley Egerton. The moonlight was
full on the bronzed countenance of the strong public man, with its lines
of thought and care, and its vigorous but cold expression of intense
self-control.

"And looking yonder," continued Harley's soliloquy, "I should remember
that form, when I wished to hew out from the granite the idea of
Endurance."

"So you are come, and punctually," said Egerton, linking his arm in
Harley's.

HARLEY--"Punctually, of course, for I respect your time, and I will not
detain you long. I presume you will speak to-night?"

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