co. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack.
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