Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. "Take courage, man; it is only Quilt Arnold. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room.
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