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. “Annabel Pellissier is known to most of us. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. I didn't understand then, but I do now.
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