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... This,
despite her innocence. She had endured much--miserably
much!--for honesty's sake. There wrought the irony of fate. She
had endured bravely for honesty's sake. And the end of it all
was shame unutterable. There was nought left her save a wild
dream of revenge against the world that had martyrized her.
"Vengeance is mine. I will repay, saith the Lord."... The
admonition could not touch her now. Why should she care for the
decrees of a God who had abandoned her!
There had been nothing in the life of Mary Turner, before the
catastrophe came, to distinguish it from many another. Its most
significant details were of a sordid kind, familiar to poverty.
Her father had been an unsuccessful man, as success is esteemed
by this generation of Mammon-worshipers. He was a gentleman, but
the trivial fact is of small avail to-day. He was of good birth,
and he was the possessor of an inherited competence. He had, as
well, intelligence, but it was not of a financial sort.
So, little by little, his fortune became shrunken toward
nothingness, by reason of injudicious investments.


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