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” “Tolstoy is so good about this,” said Miss Miniver, regardless of her friend’s attitude. I finally got my own set of house keys when I turned eleven. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. We were worried. CHAPTER XXXII. 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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