Then Rowena said suddenly: "Have you seen your child?"
His brows contracted.
"No. I've told her nurse I'll see her in a day or two. I've been busy. Children aren't in my line."
"She's a little person of much character," said Rowena slowly. "I don't want to be an interfering meddler, but you'll gain by her acquaintance. I have."
He raised his eyebrows and then smiled.
"I am talking to you like an old friend. If you had been well and jolly, I should have cut and run. I have taken a dislike to my fellow-creatures, especially the sound and healthy ones. And to my disgust I'm nervy—children would get on my nerves. I'll see her when I feel fitter. You consider me an inhuman parent, I can see."
"No, only an ignorant one," said Rowena. "Your little daughter has made some of my worst days very bright."
"Women always worship babies."
"She is companionable, you will find."
His brows did not relax; he leant back in his chair and drew a long breath.