“How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. 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. ‘And so also have I. While the girl kept the patient from dwelling upon his misfortunes, whatever these were, he himself would have to keep the girl from brooding over hers. And I think I will indeed blow off your imbecile head. That added to his puzzle. One day I can be a Gothic chick, and the next day I’ll be Hitler Youth.
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