I could work and keep the house
comfortable without him, but he wouldn't let me a-be, because he knows I
love, him dear. Yes, I do, I love him dear," she continued, breaking
into hysterical sobs, "and if he came home and killed me I could kiss
him with my last breath."
This touched me more than I can say. A sense of something tragic in the
position of the poor woman, who knew the character of the man she loved
as well as the weakness which compelled her to love him, made me
sympathise with her for the first time, and think (with a shuddering
memory of my own marriage) how many millions of women there must be in
the world who were in a worse position than myself.
On returning to my room that night I began to look about to see if I had
anything I could sell in order to help Mrs. Oliver, and so put an end to
the condition that kept my baby a prisoner in her house.
I had nothing, or next to nothing. Except the Reverend Mother's rosary
(worth no more than three or four shillings) I had only my mother's
miniature, which was framed in gold and set in pearls, but that was the
most precious of all my earthly possessions except my child.
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