Only your pa knew as how I were the one as saw to you at the wet-nurse’s cottage, and he got a-hold of me and made me bring him to you. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. I don't have a phone in my room. It was now a quarter past twelve. Decidedly this was imbecile. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition.
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