“But, my boy—haven't we found Sophie a place in Mr. Wygant's own home?”
“Yes, doctor! But there are all the others! Think of the suffering and misery in that dreadful mill! And Mr. Wygant pays such low wages. And he is such a rich man—he might help the children if he would.”
“Really, Samuel—” began the doctor.
But the boy, seeing the frown of displeasure on his face, rushed on swiftly. “That's only the beginning! Listen to me! There's Mr. Hickman!”
“Mr. Hickman!”
“Mr. Henry Hickman, the lawyer. He has done even worse things—”
And suddenly the clergyman clenched his hands. “Really, Samuel!” he cried. “This is too much! You are exceeding all patience!”
“Doctor!” exclaimed the boy in anguish.
“It seems to me,” the doctor continued, “that you owe it to me to consider more carefully. You have been treated very kindly here—you have been favored in more ways than one.”
“But what has that to do with it?” cried the other wildly.