“I don’t know. Somewhere.” My husband’s composure exasperated me. “That is for you to decide. I only know that we cannot afford to keep her.”
“Till Churton writes,” suggested Robert.
“And suppose he does not write at all? As likely as not, this is a trick for getting rid of her.”
“Marion, don’t hint that to Maimie again.”
“No,” I said. “But it is probably the truth.”
“We have no reason for supposing so,” said Robert.
“Well,—think as you like,” I said shortly. “I only know one thing,—that we cannot keep her.”
“But, my dear Marion, what do you propose to do with the child?” asked Robert seriously.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I only know we cannot afford any extra expenses. And you know it too. The pull upon us now is terrible.” My voice choked as I spoke. “It is no rare thing that the children have barely enough to eat. And as for clothes—”
“I do not forget all that,” he said sadly.