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. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. Shari managed it after graduating beauty school. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much.
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