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It was like a second
bereavement. I could not and would not do it.
"Never, never, never!" I told myself.


EIGHTY-SIXTH CHAPTER

Thinking matters out in the light of Maggie Jones's story, I concluded
that poverty was at the root of nearly everything. If I could stave off
poverty no real harm could come to my child.
I determined to do so. But there was only one way open to me at
present--and that was to retrench my expenses.
I did retrench them. Persuading myself that I had no real need of this
and that, I reduced my weekly outlay.
This gave me immense pleasure, and even when I saw, after a while, that
I was growing thin and pale, I felt no self-pity of any sort,
remembering that I had nobody to look well for now, and only the sweet
and glorious duty before me of providing for my child.
I convinced myself, too, that my altered appearance was natural to my
condition, and that all I needed was fresh air and exercise, therefore I
determined to walk every day in the Park.
I did so once only.


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