Why, now, when Joan was slipping into his life, a lonely waif of a girl in a black gown he hated, why must he think years back to that soft-eyed Irish girl and Brian?
Had he broken his pledge to her, driving her son away with a passion of self no less definite for its careless gayety?
Eileen's son! Eileen's son! Sadness tore at Kenny's heart and twitched at his dry, white lips.

Ah! why must he live again that agonizing day when Eileen had gone out of his life forever?
The voice went on, funereal, gentle.

Kenny's eyes blurred.

Sweat came coldly forth upon his forehead.

At the first thud of earth he choked and turned away, the pain unbearable.