"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. "Let me see him. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. " "I agree to that. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak.
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