To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. 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. “There have been other times,” he said a little sadly. "Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. The huge, newly remodeled brick house was crammed full of people reeking of beer, vodka, and tequila.
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