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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. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. You have darkened your eyebrows, you have even changed your style of dress. Fell to sin, did Martha. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. However the taste of the architecture may be questioned, which was the formal French style of the period, the general effect was imposing.
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