Shari entered the room in a damp towel, fresh from the shower. Do you understand?” “I do not,” he answered. She replied softly. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. But she does not resemble you in any other way. Supposing you take them and read them? You might be able to tell me why I felt disappointed. 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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