He only stays here for you, hoping in vain. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. It was her job to keep the house as neat as a pin, up to the high standard that Sheila expected, being a nurse. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. Then he remembered that she was Anna’s sister. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. .
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