‘Don’t tell me. 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. " "I never doubted the latter point, I assure you, Madam," observed Mrs. “Look here! Aren’t you going a little too far? This—this is degradation—making a fuss with sleeves. "He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac. Die, indeed! We’re going to do work; we’re going to unfold about each other; we’re going to have children. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs.
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