You're all I've got in the world, Stephen; and you know what a life I lead.

It isn't as if I could go about, like other women; then I shouldn't care where you spent your time, if you didn't want to spend it with me." And tears, partly of ill-temper, partly of real grief, rolled down the hard, unlovely, old face.
This was only one evening.

There are three hundred and sixty-five in a year.

Was not the burden too heavy for mortal man to carry?
.