‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. "You are all right?"—anxiously. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. 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.
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