" The Wastrel rushed. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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