I am sorry that I do not know any one in London. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. 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. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead.
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