I have given up painting. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. “And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. She said that she couldn’t stand Mike. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice.
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