" "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. She had eaten them. Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. " "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess. A sense of loss was amongst us. He then made off. She reloaded. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. 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. ‘Alors, I see it.
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