She said it was the worst kind of thing for me--the sort of life I had to live.

She said I grew pert and precocious and worldly-wise, and full of servants' talk and ideas.

She even spoke of that night at the little cafe table when I gloried in the sparkle and spangles and told her that now we were seeing life--real life.

And of how shocked she was, and of how she saw then what this thing was doing to me.

But it was too late.
She told more, much more, about the later years, and the reconciliation; then, some way, she brought things around to Jerry and me.