But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. It has been a marvellous day—and I am going to England. There was no one to be seen. 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. ” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ann Veronica, by H. One could go to him and tell him one loved him. But though he made Blueskin and Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both.
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