“But you forget this wretched baby. Waters and Adamson write that there is a baby.”
“Mrs. Theobald must be told. But she doesn’t count. She is breaking up very quickly. She doesn’t even see Mr. Kingcroft now. He, thank goodness, I hear, has at last consoled himself with someone else.”
“The child must know some time,” persisted Philip, who felt a little displeased, though he could not tell with what.
“The later the better. Every moment she is developing.”
“I must say it seems rather hard luck, doesn’t it?”
“On Irma? Why?”
“On us, perhaps. We have morals and behaviour also, and I don’t think this continual secrecy improves them.”
“There’s no need to twist the thing round to that,” said Harriet, rather disturbed.
“Of course there isn’t,” said her mother. “Let’s keep to the main issue. This baby’s quite beside the point. Mrs. Theobald will do nothing, and it’s no concern of ours.”
“It will make a difference in the money, surely,” said he.