Then they sat down on the grass under the hedge, and she told her story, interspersed with Lily's horrified comments.
When it was all told, the girl still sat listening.

She heard Radbourn's calm, slow voice again.

It helped her not to hate Burns; it helped her to pity and understand him: "You must remember that such toil brutalizes a man; it makes him callous, selfish, unfeeling, necessarily.

A fine nature must either adapt itself to its hard surroundings or die.

Men who toil terribly in filthy garments day after day and year after year cannot easily keep gentle; the frost and grime, the heat and cold will soon or late enter into their souls.