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. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. Griffin, who held the same office in Westminster Gatehouse were left in the Lodge. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled. Perhaps you will meet him someday. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives.
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