here you are! What are you trembling for!' And she kicked
me. 'Take that!' she said.

"And I didn't understand--not then. But I understand now.

"Next day the man came again, and talked to my mother. But I saw him
look and look at me. And by-and-by he reached for my hand. And my mother
said, 'Stop that! None of that, my little George! One at a time, if you
please!' And he laughed and let me go. And they went out and sat on a
bench in the yard. And the man stroked my mother's hair. And I watched
and listened. They talked a long time till it was night. And I heard
George say, 'Well, Fanny, old girl, we did for him, all right, didn't
we?' I've always remembered it. And they laughed and they laughed. Then
the man said, 'God, how it does scare me, sometimes!' And my mother
laughed at him for that. And George said, 'Look what I've had to give
up. And you penned up here! But never mind. It will blow over. Then
we'll crawl back to the old world, eh, Fanny?'"

All this the woman had rattled off like a child with a recitation, as
something learned long ago and long rehearsed against just this last
contingency of confession.

"Oh, I remember it!" she said, as if her volubility needed an
explanation. "It took me a long time to understand. But one day I
understood.

"He came often, then--George did. And I was not afraid of him any more.
He was fine, like my mother. Every time I saw him come my stomach would
give a jump. And I liked to have him put his face against mine, the way
I'd seen him do to mother. And every time he went away I'd watch him
from the hilltop till I couldn't see him any more. And at night I
couldn't sleep. And George came very often--to see me, he told me, and
not my mother.

"And my mother was changed then. She never hit me again, because George
said he'd kill her if she did. But she acted very strange when he told
her that, and looked and looked at me. And didn't speak to me for days
and days. But I didn't mind--I could talk to George. And we'd go for
long walks, and he'd tell me more about New York and Phil'delph--more
than my mother could tell. Oh, I loved to hear him talk. And he said
such nice things to me--such nice things to me! Bruce--I forgot all
about Bruce. Oh, I was happy!... But that was because I knew nothing....

"Yes, I pleased George. But by-and-by he changed too. Then I couldn't
say anything that he liked. 'Stupid child!' he called me. I tried, ever
so hard, to please him. But it was l