pit of the theatre, but the heart-breaking tears of absolute despair. There I go again! Forgive me, old boy, but I will not offend any more.
I managed, ultimately, to quiet her, and then asked for her story.
It was a sad one, and the man lying upstairs was evidently, as I thought from the look of him, an absolute brute and blackguard. She had plenty of marks to show of his violence at different times. She showed me a hardly-healed cut on her head, luckily hidden by her abundant bronze-red hair.
"This is his last effort," she said with a sickly smile. "He threw a teacup at me, and, as it broke, it cut me, and he laughed when he saw the blood trickle down my face and neck. Oh! how I hate him," she continued, "and yet"
"Why do you go on like this?" I asked. "There are ways" "Yes, but we have one little boy, and I will not, while I can endure, let his name be associated with anything disgraceful. That is why I have borne it these last two years. Not only him," she nodded towards the staircase, "but that woman, who is an old servant of his family, and his mother and sister. They all
