text:  The woman--it is hardly known where she lives; in some miserable lonely room far away buried in the heart of one of those dismal courts that lurk in the outlets of London her way of life and means of support equally unknown the one object of her existence palpable to all--to come forth at the grey of daybreak in winter and summer in storm or shine and seat herself at a little distance from that man's abode until he makes his appearance: when he was passed her to rise to follow to track him through the livelong day with that unflagging constancy poets are fond of ascribing to unquenchable love which the early Greeks attributed to their impersonations of immortal Hate