“I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. We will beg our bread and our shelter, and our passage on a boat. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Then she dropped the curtain and stepped back into the room. Indeed, it was his boast that he could find his way through any part of London blindfolded; and by this time, it would seem, he had nearly arrived at his destination; for, grasping his companion's arm, he led him along a narrow entry which did not appear to have an outlet, and came to a halt.
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