Matt. That’s all: she (hic) died.
May. But tell me of yourself. Who are you?
Matt. A tramp (hic) now; a soldier once; a happy husband and father (hic) long ago.
May. A father?
Matt. Yes, I went to war, left them in a happy home; came back in a year to find the mother flown, the child (hic) gone with strangers. Then I went——I went to battle again to sell my life cheap (hic); no use, I couldn’t die. I changed my name——the name she had disgraced——and met Roy. You know the rest (hic). It’s only a tramp’s story (hic). Who cares for him?
May. But the child?
Matt. Oh, I’ve found her (hic): she’s all right.
May. Thank heaven! my fears are groundless.
Matt. Yes, I found her, indeed, happy: a child to be proud of; but how could I face her (hic)? I, a drunkard and a tramp.