The Night-Cellar XVIII. ” And to that, through vast rhetorical meanderings, she clung. Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. Ever since he came here, three months ago, he has been the life and soul of the place; and now the death warrant has arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men would be, and as all others are, he's gayer than ever. Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained muscles, and bruised hands; streaming with perspiration, and with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for a draught of water; he sank against the wall, and while in this state was seized with, a sudden and strange alarm. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. At this juncture, the sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said.
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