"
"And how do you feel then?"
"The first time he asked me, it was like a knife going through me. I
haven't got used to it yet."
She paused for a time before adding:
"But, anyhow, he's going to make a name for himself some day. He has it in
him. I'm not the only one that thinks so. I'm trying now to get him to go
to a school of acting, but he thinks variety is good enough for him. He'll
get over that, though."
She spoke so tenderly and yet so proudly of him, that I could not without a
pang of pity meditate upon the probable outcome of this attachment, which,
according to the logic of realists, will be the boy's eventual success in
life, long after he will have forgotten the hand that lifted him out of the
depth in which he first opened his eyes.
He knows nothing of his parentage. His benefactress once sought, by means
of Inspector Byrnes's penetrating eye, to pierce the clouds surrounding his
origin, but the inspector smiled at the hopelessness of the attempt.
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"I left him in New York," she said. "I suppose he'll blow in all his money
as soon as he can possibly manage to do so.
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