even if things had been different, I hadn't come to love him, in that
way--it's queer, because he's such a wonderful person. I'd like to live
for the child, if only I had the strength, the will left in me--but
that's gone. And maybe I could save her from--what I've been through."

Augusta Maturin took Janet's hand in hers.

"Janet," she said, "I've been a lonely woman, as you know, with nothing
to look forward to. I've always wanted a child since my little Edith
went. I wanted you, my dear, I want your child, your daughter--as I want
nothing else in the world. I will take her, I will try to bring her up in
the light, and Brooks Insall will help me...."

PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Anger and revolt against a life so precarious and sordid
But when you get to a point where private affairs become a public menace
Exorbitant price for joys otherwise more reasonably to be obtained
Foreigners. I never could see why the government lets 'em all come
Hitherto he had held rigidly to that relativity
Janet resented that pity
Love is nothing but attraction between the sexes
Mercifully, however, she had little leisure to reflect
Perhaps she feared to break the charm of that memory
She resented being prayed for
Struggled against her woman's desire to give
Tested the limits of Janet's ingenuity and powers of resistance
The seventh commandment was only relative
There had been something sorrowful in that kiss
Too much reason in the world, too little impulse and feeling

MR. CREWE'S CAREER, Complete

By WINSTON CHURCHILL

BOOK 1.

CHAPTER I

THE HONOURABLE HILARY VANE SITS FOR HIS PORTRAIT

I may as well begin this story with Mr. Hilary Vane, more frequently
addressed as the Honourable Hilary Vane, although it was the gentleman's
proud boast that he had never held an office in his life. He belonged to
the Vanes of Camden Street,--a beautiful village in the hills near
Ripton,--and was, in common with some other great men who had made a
noise in New York and the nation, a graduate of Camden Wentworth Academy.
But Mr. Vane, when he was at home, lived on a wide, maple-shaded street
in the city of Ripton, cared for by an elderly housekeeper who had more
edges than a new-fangled mowing machine. The house was a porticoed one
which had belonged to the Austens for a hundred years or more, for Hilary
Vane had married, towards middle age, Miss Sarah Austen. In two years he
wa