that sister's pallid lips what vileness lay behind the word.

Evelina, unconscious of any distress but her own, sat upright,
shivering in Ann Eliza's hold, while she piled up, detail by
detail, her dreary narrative.

"The minute we got out there, and he found the job wasn't as
good as he expected, he changed. At first I thought he was sick--I
used to try to keep him home and nurse him. Then I saw it was
something different. He used to go off for hours at a time, and
when he came back his eyes kinder had a fog over them. Sometimes
he didn't har'ly know me, and when he did he seemed to hate me.
Once he hit me here." She touched her breast. "Do you remember,
Ann Eliza, that time he didn't come to see us for a week--the time
after we all went to Central Park together--and you and I thought
he must be sick?"

Ann Eliza nodded.

"Well, that was the trouble--he'd been at it then. But
nothing like as bad. After we'd been out there about a month he
disappeared for a whole week. They took him back at the store, and
gave him another chance; but the second time they discharged him,
and he drifted round for ever so long before he could get another
job. We spent all our money and had to move to a cheaper place.
Then he got something to do, but they hardly paid him anything, and
he didn't stay there long. When he found out about the baby--"

"The baby?" Ann Eliza faltered.