So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. Wood, ironically; "but I used to think it required something more than mere words to prove that a person's character was abused. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. It had been her home for hundreds of years. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. 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.
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