The green square of paper pinned round the lamp cast down a tender shade. By hell, I think that's a good literary expression. It is a base consent to the promptings of our corrupt nature to the lower instincts, to that which is gross and beast-like; and it is also a turning away from the counsel of our higher nature, from all that is pure and holy, from the Holy God Himself. Met her today point blank in Grafton Street.
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