Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. They want some fun, and there isn't any. 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. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. "No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood.
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