“Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. Somehow logic could not explain her. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey. I think that I will tell you. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. 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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