He left me for weeks at a time, often alone and in poverty.

My father sought in vain to get me away from him, but--but I was too proud to confess the truth.

I should have been welcome at home, without him; but I refused to go.

I had made my own choice, had committed the mistake, had done the wrong; I could not bring myself to flee from the result.

I burrowed in the slums where he took me, hiding from all who sought me out.