‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. I have said that I am but a nun now. She cried out his name in ecstasy. ’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father.
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