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. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head. "They'll escape. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. ” “Suppose he comes and talks to me?” “A girl can always keep a man at a distance if she cares to do it. If he awoke and caught you at it, there might be a set-back. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. The carte de jour was before Monsieur. They were suddenly thrown aside, and a man stepped out from his hiding-place. ” She shook her head, snapping out of her reverie. ‘You know about that?’ ‘It was the only possible deduction. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face.
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