was such a kid. And I wouldn't--I couldn't--do what he told me to. And
when I was thirteen, I ran away. I'd always loved the river, and boats,
and so on; and I ran away from my old father. And he nearly went off his
head...and he brought me back. Didn't take him long to find me! That was
when I began to hate _him_. I'd only been afraid of him before; but I
was growing up. Well, he put me to a school where they watched me all
the time. I sulked, I worked, I did every blessed thing; and I grew
older still, and more afraid of my father, and somehow less afraid of
him, too. I got a sort of horror of him. I hated him. And when he said
I'd got to go into the business I just told him I'd see him damned
first. That was when he first saw that you can't make any man a
slave--not even your own son--as long as he's got enough to eat. He
couldn't starve me. It's starved men who are made slaves, Jenny. They've
got no guts. Well, he threw me over. He thought I should starve myself
and then go back to him, fawning. I didn't go. I was eighteen, and I
went on a ship. I had two years of it; and my father died. I got
nothing. All went to a cousin. I was nobody; but I was free. Freedom's
the only thing that's worth while in this life. And I was twenty or so.
It was then that I picked up a girl in London and tried to keep her--not
honest, but straight to me. I looked after her for a year, working down
by the river. But it was no good. She went off with other men because I
got tired of her. I threw her over when I found that out. I mean, I told
her she could stick to me or let me go. She wanted both. I went to sea
again. It was then I met Templecombe. I met him in South America, and we
got very pally. Then I came back to England. I got engaged to a
girl--got married to her when I was twenty-three ..."

"Married!" cried Jenny, pulling herself away. She had flushed deeply.
Her heart was like lead.