” “Well, I have two,” said Mr. 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. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. My father was Colonel Pellissier.
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