“My son,” she insisted, “cannot you see that I am serious?” He sighed. “Certainly I can see that you are serious, Eugenia. I have seen nothing else since I have been old enough to make an intelligent estimate of your character, and it has, I might mention in passing, darkened my young life.... However ... to return to the matter in hand, unless this sob stuff is violent enough to be funny, there are lots of things I’d rather read!” “Peter, I have been very unhappy about this mill for years. I urged your father not to invest in it. I knew--I suspected, at least, from its location--that the labor conditions would be deplorable, and of late years I have been convinced of it. Nevertheless--and I blame myself severely for it----” “Oh, now, don’t be severe with yourself, Eugenia,” he pleaded engagingly. “There’s always me to revile, you know!” “I have been so engulfed in other affairs, in fighting for things in _general_, that the _particular_, in this instance, has escaped me. And now this article, which, in spite of its almost hysterical attack upon you, personally, has a very authentic ring, proves that the Altonia is one of the bad mills.” “I could have told you it was one of the bad mills, Eugenia. Darn’ dump’s passed its dividends twice, I understand from Judson.” His mother stared. She hadn’t supposed, really, that this fritterling knew what a dividend was, but she returned instantly to her text. “I didn’t mean bad in that sense, of course, as you know quite well. I mean that it flagrantly disregards the laws with reference to employing children under a certain age, and working children of any age at night. If you will _read_ it, Peter----” “Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Eugenia. You leave it right here--right here beside me on the bed, see?--so I can’t possibly lose it, and after I’ve had my shower and my coffee, and while Takasugi’s shaving me----” Mrs. Eugenia Parker got to her feet and walked to the end of the sleeping porch and stood for several moments looking out into the effective garden which surrounded her house. When she came back to her son her voice was low and steady. “Will you try to realize what this means to me, personally, Peter? In the first place, because you are my son, and in the second place because, publicly, I stand for proper working and living conditions, compulsory education--law enforcement--and privately, I or at least a member of my family--Peter, we are the accessories after the fact! We are guilty, you and I, of breaking laws, not only the laws of the country, but the laws of common humanity. Peter, are you listening to me? You are not going to _sleep_ again?” “Not if I can possibly help it, Eugenia,” he assured her warmly, “but there’s something so soothing about your voice....” She rose again and stood frowning down on him. “Peter, I ask you once more, will--you--read--this article?”