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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. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. “It is nothing of any importance. “You no longer belong to Gianfrancesco. But tell me," he added with much anxiety, "has nothing been heard of Thames since the night of my former escape?" "Nothing whatever," answered Winifred. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails.
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