"I thought you said ten." "No; the oldest is ten.

Yes; they're worth slaving for.

I've hung onto this job all these years just because it might go hard with 'em if I gave it up and tried something else." Hugh looked into the sober, serious face and a lump flew to his throat.
It struck him as probable that this man was to lose his position the next morning.

A sort of pity assailed Ridgeway for an instant, but he put it away resolutely.
After all, he had Grace to think of and not the children of the plain-clothes man.
They had a second drink and it fired his brain with a gleeful desire for action.

The plain-clothes man shivered as he swallowed the fiery stuff.
He looked thin and haggard and ill, a condition which Hugh, in his hatred, had failed to observe until this moment.
"You certainly have a home and some money saved up by this time," he said, trying to suppress the eager gleam in his eyes.
"We've had lots of sickness and it's taken nearly everything.