I will not give up the fight!
What shall I do?
CHAPTER IX.
A BURST OF SUNLIGHT.
June 8.
They say the darkest hour comes just before the dawn. It was so with me.
My troubles grew too great to bear, then vanished in an hour.
Fate couldn't forever frown. I knew there must be help; some hand
outstretched in a pitiless world.
Really I am almost happy, for in the most unexpected and yet the most
natural fashion, my perplexities have vanished; and I believe that my life
will not be, after all, a failure.
The hour before the dawn was more than dark. It was dreary. In the morning
I did not care to go out, and no one came except one strange man who
besieged the door--there have been many such here recently, dunning and
dunning and dunning, until my patience was worn to shreds. This was a
decent-looking fellow with a thin face, a mustache dyed black and a
carefully unkeen expression that noticed everything.
"Miss Winship?" he said, and upon my acknowledging the name, he placed a
paper in my hands and went away. I was so relieved because he said nothing
about wanting "a little money on account;" he wasn't even coarsely
insolent, like so many of them.
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