‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. I am too weak to aid you. “Well, you know. ” He started back as though he had been shot. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. Wood in their favour.
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