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He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. "Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. Left to Capting Roding, as he told me hisself, you’d be in prison this moment. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. "In wine there is truth. What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. Even if she has to work two jobs to do it. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is. 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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