218 THE SHADOWS.
in it to cure itself than any other wickedness into which wretched men can fall. What a mercy it is to be born a Shadow! Wickedness does not stick to us. What do we care for gold !—Rubbish "
" Amen! Amen ! Amen !" came from a hundred shadow-voices.
"You should have let her murder him, and so you would have been quit of him."
" And besides how was he to escape at last ? He could never get rid of her, you know."
"I was going to tell you," resumed the narrator, 11 only you had so many shadow-remarks to make, that you would not let me."
"Go on ; go on."
"There was a little grandchild who used to come and see him sometimes—the only creature the miser cared for. Her mother was his daughter; but the old man would never see her,