"It ain't an old story, it's the story of my life, and I haven't come to the end of it yet."
"But you'll have got to the end of it if you'll do what I say."
A moment later Esther said—
"I don't know what you want to get a divorce for at all. I daresay your wife would take you back if you were to ask her."
"She's no children, and never will have none, and marriage is a poor look-out without children—all the worry and anxiety for nothing. What do we marry for but children? There's no other happiness. I've tried everything else—"
"But I haven't."
"I know all that. I know you've had a damned hard time, Esther. I've had a good week at Doncaster, and have enough money to buy my partner out; we shall 'ave the 'ouse to ourselves, and, working together, I don't think we'll 'ave much difficulty in building it up into a very nice property, all of which will in time go to the boy. I'm doing pretty well, I told you, in the betting line, but if you like I'll give it up. I'll never lay or take the odds again. I can't say more, Esther, can I? Come, say yes," he said, reaching his arm towards her.
"Don't touch me," she said surlily, and drew back a step with air of resolution that made him doubt if he would be able to persuade her.
"Now, Esther——" William did not finish. It seemed useless to argue with her, and he looked at the great red ash of the tallow candle.
"You are the mother of my boy, so it is different; but to advise me to go and live with another woman! I shouldn't have thought it of a religious girl like you."