You can trust me, Anna. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. You're a queer lad. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow. "Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God. . " "Of course," rejoined Quilt, maliciously; "every thief is so. Anything. 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.
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