” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole shot to us. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. I spied a small picture of them in your house, though. When it's done, I'll push you through. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood.
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