” “And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no chance for me, my errand was the same. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. 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. Her answer was not quite ready. “Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?” “I am afraid that I must confess it,” he answered. I don’t think any surroundings could throw a shadow on you. Leave go, I tell you!" and he forced open the knife with his teeth.
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