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Updated: September 17, 2025
Time and neglect, the ravages of war, and the encroaching powers of Nature have destroyed these settlements, and nothing now remains of the three cities but Ravenna. It would seem that in classical times Ravenna stood, like modern Venice, in the centre of a huge lagune, the fresh waters of the Ronco and the Po mixing with the salt waves of the Adriatic round its very walls.
The waters of the rivers have necessarily cut a few channels for their passage, or, what is now a lagune, would long since have become a lake. Another thousand years may so far change the character of this extraordinary estuary as to convert the channels of the bay into rivers, and the muddy banks into marshes and meadows, resembling those that are now seen for so many leagues inland.
He thought of it there warm "next her heart." When he had bought the ring he had meant to save it for Christmas before he gave it to her. But the desire to see her pleasure had been too strong for him. Christmas Eve, I know not by what deceit on her part, these young people spent together all day. Lagune was down with a touch of bronchitis and had given his typewriter a holiday.
"A fact is a synthesis of impressions," said Lagune; "but that you will learn when you are older. The thing is that we were at cross purposes. I told Chaffery you were beginners. He treated you as beginners arranged a demonstration." "It was a demonstration," said Smithers. "Precisely. If it had not been for your interruptions ..." "Ah!" "He forged elementary effects ..."
"Was much ... pressure necessary?" asked Lewisham by an effort. "We had considerable difficulty. Considerable. But of course as I pointed out to her it was scarcely possible for her to continue as my typewriter unless she was disposed to take an interest in my investigations " "You did that?" "Had to. Fortunately Chaffery it was his idea. I must admit " Lagune stopped astonished.
The furious action threw the Lagune into ebullition, but, when the foam subsided, it lay calm as the blue and peaceful vault it reflected. "Antonio!" burst from the lips of the Bravo. A frightful silence succeeded the call. There was neither answer nor human form. Jacopo compressed the handle of his oar with fingers of iron, and his own breathing caused him to start.
The room was lined with bookshelves, and conspicuous therein were a long row of foolish pretentious volumes, the "works" of Lagune the witless, meandering imitation of philosophy that occupied his life. Along the cornices were busts of Plato, Socrates, and Newton. A pen, flung down forcibly, quivered erect with its one surviving nib in the blotting pad. Mr. Lagune had flung it down.
Since I have named M. Laplace, I shall here relate a little anecdote of which he was the hero, and which will show to what a degree my influence was generally considered and looked up to in the province of Lagune.
For some seconds Lewisham could not get away from stupid repetitions of his inquiry. Then he hit upon a collateral proof. "But look here! Can you see this counterfoil?" "Plainly," said Lagune. "Can you read the number?" "Five thousand two hundred and seventy-nine." "Well, and this?" "Five thousand two hundred and eighty-one." "Well where's five thousand two hundred and eighty?"
Lewisham, it was remarked by Miss Heydinger, made but a poor figure in this discussion. Once or twice he seemed about to address Lagune, and thought better of it with the words upon his lips. Lagune's treatment of the exposure was light and vigorous. "The man Chaffery," he said, "has made a clean breast of it. His point of view " "Facts are facts," said Smithers.
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