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CHAPTER XVIII. “I am going to America. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. New customs have prevailed over the old. Doctors constantly admonished and offered weak consolation that most would have been hurt much worse from the type of fall he took. But he didn’t marry her. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street.
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