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“You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. That’s why I come to tell you. E. But you need not fear,’ she added, shaking him off. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father.
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