“Because all the time I was a wife I wanted this house, and I longed for children. Now I can have them.”
Shippen stood up. She remained seated, eyes lifted with that rapt look fixed upon him.
“Did you say—children, Mrs. Cutter?” he stammered.
“Yes; now I shall have children,” she repeated.
“Well, all right; but under the circumstances, it is a little unusual; don’t you think so?” he said, the compass of his mind already pointed toward the door.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, and was evidently about to launch into this feature of the case when she saw that he was about to take his departure. This reminded her of something. “But what was it you wished to see me about, Mr. Shippen?” she asked, with a return of that vague anxiety in the tones of her voice.
“Why, merely to resume a pleasant acquaintance, I suppose,” he answered politely.
“Oh.”
“Thank you for receiving me,” he said. “Can I do anything for you in New York?”
“No,” she answered quickly, but with no shade of embarrassment to indicate that she knew he referred to her husband.