"Your uncle must protect you. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud.
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