And the boy--what hope was there for him?
Often as Owen moodily thought of their circumstances and prospects he told himself that it would be far better if they could all three die now, together.
He was tired of suffering himself, tired of impotently watching the sufferings of his wife, and appalled at the thought of what was in store for the child.
Of this nature were his reflections as he walked homewards on the evening of the day when old Linden was dismissed.

There was no reason to believe or hope that the existing state of things would be altered for a long time to come.
Thousands of people like himself dragged out a wretched existence on the very verge of starvation, and for the greater number of people life was one long struggle against poverty.

Yet practically none of these people knew or even troubled themselves to inquire why they were in that condition; and for anyone else to try to explain to them was a ridiculous waste of time, for they did not want to know.
The remedy was so simple, the evil so great and so glaringly evident that the only possible explanation of its continued existence was that the majority of his fellow workers were devoid of the power of reasoning.

If these people were not mentally deficient they would of their own accord have swept this silly system away long ago.

It would not have been necessary for anyone to teach them that it was wrong.
Why, even those who were successful or wealthy could not be sure that they would not eventually die of want.