Page:Martin Faber - the story of a criminal (IA martinfaber00simmrich).pdf/24

 There was at the school to which I went, a boy about twelve, the same age with myself. His name was William Harding—he was the only child of a widow lady, living a retired life—of blameless character, and a disposition the most amiable and shrinking. This disposition was inherited by her son, in the most extravagant degree. He had been the child of affliction. His father had been murdered in a night affray in a neighbouring city, and his body had been brought home to the house and presence of his lady, when she was far advanced in pregnancy. The sudden and terrible character of the shock brought on the