She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. "To those who, like me, have never been able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach it the better. I'll write out certain rules of conduct, and then you'll never be in doubt.
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