“It was my sister Anna. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. “I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. One would say she could try to —to prevent that her daughter will go to the convent. His commissions this day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. The child was still safe. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God.
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