They either ran to see or ran for shelter. "I am very wicked," she said. ” “I don’t understand. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. “You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. 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. It was too good to be true. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face.
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