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These are the spiders of society; They weave their pretty webs of lies and sneers, And lie themselves in ambush for the spoil. The web seems fair, and glitters in the sun, And the poor victim winds him in the toil Before he dreams of danger, or of death. Alas, the misery that such inflict! A word, a look, have power to wring the heart, And leave it struggling hopeless in the net Spread by the false and cruel, who delight In the ingenious torment they contrive.

's character is developed by the affections: when once they come into action, how rapidly are the latent qualities called forth, and in how brief a time what a wonderful change is wrought! This process, rapid in all her sex, was unusually rapid in Constance. The bitter fruit of her experience had, like