He looked at her, pale and very remote. The ugly little grin flickered on his face.

“You wouldn’t have to tell him who the father was.”

“Oh!” she said; “he’d take it even then, if I wanted him to.”

He thought for a time.

“Ay!” he said at last, to himself. “I suppose he would.”

There was silence. A big gulf was between them.

“But you don’t want me to go back to Clifford, do you?” she asked him.

“What do you want yourself?” he replied.

“I want to live with you,” she said simply.