"Yes," she answered, with a quiet dignity which he could not gainsay. "And that is the very reason that I will not marry you. I love you too well—so well that I can never allow you to become the father of Sidney Lorimer's child."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
"I believe my world is overcrowded," Sally said, one January afternoon, two years later.
"Arlt, why don't you take the hint?" Bobby asked languidly. "I am too comfortable to stir, and she evidently wishes to get rid of somebody."
"Possibly she means me; but I was the last to come, so I shall outstay you both," Miss Gannion said, laughing. "At least, Sally, your hospitality does you credit."
With leisurely fingers, Sally was opening her teaball; but Bobby interposed.
"I wouldn't make any tea for us, Sally. I know you are afraid it may not hold out for your crowded universe, and we three have been here often enough to have dispelled any illusions about the quality of your cups. Two are cracked, and one has a nick exactly in the spot where we drink. I suspect Arlt of having cut his wisdom teeth on it."
"Only women cut their wisdom teeth on a teacup," Miss Gannion observed. "But really, Sally, I would save my tea until the crowd shows itself."