" "Perhaps that was it. His age was not far from fifty. It filled his thoughts for the rest of the day, and became an obsession. Playing became a way of escape. His grip twisted her wrist. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St. "I do," replied Jack, carelessly. 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. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight. ’ ‘I don’t know that there is so much to tell.
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