"Surely my choice was the choice of a virtuous girl? And yet the
day when I returned to my needle was the fatal day of my life.
"I had now not only to provide for the wants of the passing
hour--I had my debts to pay. It was only to be done by toiling
harder than ever, and by living more poorly than ever. I soon
paid the penalty, in my weakened state, of leading such a life as
this. One evening my head turned suddenly giddy; my heart
throbbed frightfully. I managed to open the window, and to let
the fresh air into the room, and I felt better. But I was not
sufficiently recovered to be able to thread my needle. I thought
to myself, 'If I go out for half an hour, a little exercise may
put me right again.' I had not, as I suppose, been out more than
ten minutes when the attack from which I had suffered in my room
was renewed. There was no shop near in which I could take refuge.
I tried to ring the bell of the nearest house door. Before I
could reach it I fainted in the street.
"How long hunger and weakness left me at the mercy of the first
stranger who might pass by, it is impossible for me to say.
"When I partially recovered my senses I was conscious of being
under shelter somewhere, and of having a wine-glass containing
some cordial drink held to my lips by a man.
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