No matter. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. We came on here at once. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. “Why not? It might amuse me. 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. They simply understood there was a greater need to get over the past than to talk about it. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. PELLISSIER.
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