“It would almost be a good thing if you had a child by another man,” he said. “If we brought it up at Wragby, it would belong to us and to the place. I don’t believe very intensely in fatherhood. If we had the child to rear, it would be our own, and it would carry on. Don’t you think it’s worth considering?”

Connie looked up at him at last. The child, her child, was just an “it” to him. It⁠ ⁠… it⁠ ⁠… it!

“But what about the other man?” she asked.