" It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts. That'll tune me up. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. "And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?" "You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. 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. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils. ’ If she suffered from dragging pain in her joints, Gerald thought it explained why her features were prematurely lined.
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