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A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. "It's very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this confounded clothes'-bag. Saint Giles's Round-house. He was still thickly clad in jeans. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. They mean everything that women can mean—except submission. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 01-06-2024 02:35:53
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