For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. ’ At this, the fellow Valade burst into unwise speech. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind.
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