The question was shot out in the toneless voice common to Lily and herself, except that with the mother there was the staccato catch of breathlessness between the words.
Tom was on his guard. "Do you?"
Turning slightly she glanced at him, quickly glancing away. "You look as if you were."
"But looks can be an accident."
"Then there's the name."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"And my husband knows a lot of other things. He'll tell you himself what they are."
He repeated the question he had put to Lily, "Would you care if I were your son?"
Making no immediate response, she evaded the question when she spoke. "If you were, you'd have to make your home here."
"Couldn't I be your son—and make my home somewhere else?"