"Why? Do you think I'd be glad if you were knocked up?"
He looked up at her, with raised eyebrows, not understanding.
"I don't suppose you'd be sorry, would you?"
She said it gently--no strain of bitterness. The emotion which had
swept her at first was passed now. All her mind concentrated to the
one end.
"Of course I should," he replied. "Of course I should be sorry. Do
you paint me in your mind the little boy dropped in and out of a love
affair?"
"Oh no."
"Then why say that? Of course I should be sorry. Because you and I
couldn't fit things properly together--"
"Is that how it seems to you now?" she interrupted.
"Well, could we? Is it any good going over it all again? Did you ever
imagine me to be the type of man who would consent to being followed,
as you followed me that night? I can't suppose you did; otherwise,
would you have tried to hide it from me? But I don't lose any friendly
regard for you because of that."
"You don't object to being here, then?" she asked eagerly.
"No; certainly not! Why should I?"
"Would you come again if nothing of that were ever mentioned any more
between us--would you come again?"
"Yes, willingly.
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