in this regard.

For instance, Katie fancied the butcher's boy who used to come to the
kitchen every day with meat. He was only sixteen, and quite
inexperienced in the ways of the world.

"I did him no harm," said Katie. "But I taught him everything there was
to know. My life was so monotonous and I worked so hard then that I had
to have him. I absolutely had to, but I think I did him no harm and he
was certainly my salvation. But I didn't let Marie know anything about
it. She was too young. When she found out, years afterwards, she was
quite cross with me about it."

This kind of relation existed between Katie and Marie for several years.
About the time the girl went to Kenilworth and had her idyllic
experience, Katie married. Nick was a good sort of a man, easy and
happy, and a sober and constant labourer. Katie had saved some money, in
her careful German way, had even a bank-account of several hundred
dollars. It was not an exciting marriage; neither of them was very young
or very much in love, at least Katie was not, but it was a good
marriage of convenience, so to speak, and it might have lasted if it
had not been, as we shall see, for Marie, and Katie's affection for her.

When Marie started in on her career of wildness, Katie and Nick, her
husband, had a little home together. Into this home Marie was always
welcomed by Katie, but Nick was not so cordial. They knew about the
girl's looseness, and in their tolerant Southern German way, they did
not so much mind that, and Katie was distinctly sympathetic: Marie was
old enough now, she thought. But Nick did not like the hold the girl had
on Katie's affection.

"You'll leave me for her, sometime," he would say to his wife,
ominously. Katie would laugh and call him an old fool. She couldn't
foresee the circumstances that would one day realise her husband's
fears.

It was about this time that Marie met the man who has influenced her
more deeply than anyone else or anything else in her life, who gave her
a social philosophy, though to be sure what would seem to most people a
thoroughly perverse and subversive social philosophy; but by means of
which she had a social background, and a saving justification--was
saved from being a mere outcast.

Terry, at the time he and Marie met, was about thirty-five years old and
an accomplished and confirmed social rebel. He had worked for many years
at his trade, and was an expert tanner. But, deeply sensitive to the
injustic