In her earlier years she
and her mother had been accustomed to look things squarely in the
face, and to work out their own careers; a game of chance, it is
true, until her mother's marriage with the elder Breen; but they
had both been honest careers, and they had owed no man a penny.
Garry had fought the battle for her within the last few years, and
in return she had loved him as much as she was able to love
anybody but she had loved him as a man of honor, not as a thief.
Now he had lied to her, had refused to listen to her pleadings,
and the end had come. What was there left, and to whom should she
now turn--she without a penny to her name--except to her
stepfather, who had insulted and despised her. She had even been
compelled to seek help from Ruth and Jack; and now at last to
accept it from Mr. Grayson--he almost a stranger. These were the
thoughts which, like strange nightmares, swept across her tired
brain, taking grewsome shapes, each one more horrible than its
predecessor.
At the funeral, next day, she presented the same impassive front.
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