Perhaps it was loneliness. Emile Gosse must know his only chance was to be rid of Melusine. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. But you must get him into the chair as fast as you can, and hurry off to Newgate. 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. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it.
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