“Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of obtaining some employment in London. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. 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. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. You’re never going to believe this, by the way. The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone.
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