" "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. I’ve just seen him. Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought.
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