"Then you need no further information from me," rejoined Jackson, sternly. She and her husband have no children and ten computers. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all this, I suppose. And besides—We’re going to live, Ann Veronica! Oh, the things we’ll do, the life we’ll lead! There’ll be trouble in it at times—you and I aren’t going to run without friction. Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware. That is very bad indeed. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not.
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