CHAPTER I
Chip was very tired. All that long June day, since Tim’s harsh, “Come, out wid ye,” had roused her to daily toil, until now, wearied and disconsolate, she had crept, barefoot, up the back stairs to her room, not one moment’s rest or one kindly word had been hers.
Below, in the one living room of Tim’s Place, the men were grouped playing cards, and the medley of their oaths, their laughter, the thump of...
more...