But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. You know—if you want freedom. " "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. “I am giving my understudy a chance. I cannot protect you. He has got five minutes' start of you. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. I am far too much the gentleman. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. ” “But what have I done?” “Elope! Go off in this way.
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