What can a girl do? Somewhere at this point Ann Veronica’s speculations were interrupted and turned aside by the approach of a horse and rider. Walking to the station with him. 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. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. But I have not done so, and will not. That was the true marvel of it. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less.
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