"And what, may I ask, are yer thinking of doing? I 'eard yer say yer 'ad no money."
"I don't know."
"Take my advice, and go straight back and ask 'er to overlook it, this once."
"Oh, no, she'd never take me back."
"Yes, she will; you suits the child, and that's all they think of."
"I don't know what will become of me and my baby."
"No more don't I. Yer can't stop always in the work'us, and a baby'll be a 'eavy drag on you. Can't you lay 'ands on 'is father, some'ow?"
Esther shook her head, and Mrs. Spires noticed that she was crying.
"I'm all alone," she said; "I don't know 'ow I'm ever to pull through."
"Not with that child yer won't—it ain't possible…. You girls is all alike, yer thinks of nothing but yer babies for the first few weeks, then yer tires of them, the drag on yer is that 'eavy—I knows yer—and then yer begins to wish they 'ad never been born, or yer wishes they had died afore they knew they was alive. I don't say I'm not often sorry for them, poor little dears, but they takes less notice than you'd think for, and they is better out of the way; they really is, it saves a lot of trouble hereafter. I often do think that to neglect them, to let them go off quiet, that I be their best friend; not wilful neglect, yer know, but what is a woman to do with ten or a dozen, and I often 'as as many? I am sure they'd thank me for it."