Guy Hammersley; or, Clearing his Name — page 185: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

176 GUY HAMMERSLEY. it, Guy?” he asked, as they left the train at Ninety- Third Street. ‘‘ To-night ?” ‘‘If she is awake, yes,” was the answer. The older lad was almost as excited over this sud- den prospect which had opened before them as was the younger. Thirty dollars a week! Why, that would lift them entirely above all cause for worri- ment. And yet, it seemed heartless to look on this sordid side, and to reflect that they were to owe their respite from grinding poverty to the offices of a boy of ten. Still, one glance at the radiant young face beside him was enough to prove convincingly the fact that the earning of this weekly wage would be pure and unalloyed delight, not toil. And in this frame of mind, Guy sought his mother’s chamber when they reached the flat. She was awake, and feeling easier, she said. ‘‘You have been out with Harold, Ruth tells me,” she began, when Guy came in. ‘‘Yes, mother, and I want to tell you all about it now ;” and thinking it best that the subject should be approached gradually, Guy started in with an account of his adventure in front of the Criterion Theater the previous evening, and wound up with a report of Mr. English’s offer of an hour before. ‘‘And now all rests with you, mother,” he con- cluded. ‘‘ Harold is completely wrapped up in the idea, but I can see he loves the art for its own sake and not for any notoriety it may bring him, so that itcannotharmhim. And I will undertake to go with him every night to the theater. And I believe it will Gomicboo cS (€@) m