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 man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. "I want to know what you've done with the rest of the notes—with the gold— and the papers you took away from my room!" rejoined Wild. I've only a Chinaman who is studying under me; but he's a good sport and will help us out during the crisis. It's too hard.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU4LjE2OC44MCAtIDExLTA2LTIwMjQgMDA6NDg6MDMgLSAxMjE2MTg4NzA1
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