David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence. Take them, and may they prove as serviceable to you as I desire. While they were still engaged in looking round the doctor returned with a nurse and assistant. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him.
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