But the orchestra had never had a finer hour, and everyone was aware of it. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. 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. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone.
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