“I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry. I have suffered too much from your treachery. I’ve thought that out, and you must make up your mind to it. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. He looked at her guiltily.
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