She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Capes made a quick movement as if to bite that aggressive digit, but it withdrew to Ann Veronica’s side. 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. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found. He understood. Hearing the approach of the rider, Mr. Listen, Jack. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up.
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