” He stared at her, trying to guess at the mystery of her thoughts. We must always move on. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. ” She replied vaguely. ” He was obviously puzzled. “We are clerks in the same bank. 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. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her.
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