Dear Mother, but this particular trip could not possibly be foregone.
It seemed horribly "heartless" to Dear Mother, and "people will be sure to talk." But Edward held to his resolution and caught the eight twenty-two.
He found the old blind woman, and James's child, in the charge of a cross-voiced slattern, but the blind woman's daughter, John's wife, and the child's mother, had very recently departed with a traveling salesman for parts unknown.
"Your brother," said the old blind woman, when Edward's identity had been made clear to her, "didn't do right by her. And I don't blame her for what she done. But if she'd 'a' knowed John was going to be drowned, she might have waited."
"Have you any plans?" asked Edward. "Any money?"
"We've been living on the last money your brother sent—and now"—here she began to sniffle—"there ain't going to be any more."
"Yes, there will," said Edward. There will be enough money to keep you and someone to look after you, but"—and one last look at the ugly, squalid surroundings and the faces of the two women determined his duty—"I don't want John's—my brother's little boy Well, I think he will be better off with me. I will take him back
