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. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. Recovery impossible.
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