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CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. "Let me see him. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. "I am surprised we have received no summons for attendance to-day," he remarked; "perhaps the other robber may be secured. My feelings overpower 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. He spoke English with astonishing facility and with a purity which often embarrassed his tourists. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him.
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