‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth. “I will believe you. F. Wood's ornaments and wearing apparel, they prepared to depart. 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.
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