’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. "Please hurry the ammonia;" and Ruth turned away abruptly. Listen to me, Winifred. I do, however. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. I know I am undeserving of your bounty; but if I were to tell you what hardships I have undergone—to what frightful extremities I have been reduced—and to what infamy I have submitted, to earn a scanty subsistence for this child's sake, —if you could feel what it is to stand alone in the world as I do, bereft of all who have ever loved me, and shunned by all who have ever known me, except the worthless and the wretched,—if you knew (and Heaven grant you may be spared the knowledge!) how much affliction sharpens love, and how much more dear to me my child has become for every sacrifice I have made for him,—if you were told all this, you would, I am sure, pity rather than reproach me, because I cannot at once consent to a separation, which I feel would break my heart. Then a surge of rage welled up. . She was struck by a change in his appearance. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly.
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