She wanted to tell, but I told her they'd put me in prison.

Lois wa'n't to blame.

I ain't Esther Maxwell." "O mother, don't, don't!" Lois sobbed.
She hung about her mother's neck, and pressed her lips to that pale wrinkled face, whose wrinkles seemed now to be laid in stone.

Not a muscle of Jane Field's face changed.

She kept repeating at intervals, in precisely the same tone, her terrible under-chord to all the excitement about her: "I ain't Esther Maxwell." Some of the women were crying.