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” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. 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. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. Fire; she was full of it. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. Hang the wench! Roding was right. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded his arms across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes of his patient. Then he did give way a bit.
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