Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. "I am, Charcoal. "'This is the way in which I will serve all who attempt to apprehend me. 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. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me.
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