He reached for her chin and lifted it up. Passing thought. Her eyes followed him. ‘You mean there isn’t any evidence of a break-in. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. 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. Die, indeed! We’re going to do work; we’re going to unfold about each other; we’re going to have children.
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