She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. “Ugh!” she said. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. He gets his brains from Carolyn. ’ She jumped up, and moved impatiently to the door. 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. But after the first shock came a warm glow of relief. He chuckled. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. " "How so?" inquired Winifred. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly.
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