“Empoli! I would as soon have him in England!”
“England, then—”
He laughed.
“He has a grandmother there, you know—Mrs. Theobald.”
“He has a grandmother here. No, he is troublesome, but I must have him with me. I will not even have my father and mother too. For they would separate us,” he added.
“How?”
“They would separate our thoughts.”
She was silent. This cruel, vicious fellow knew of strange refinements. The horrible truth, that wicked people are capable of love, stood naked before her, and her moral being was abashed. It was her duty to rescue the baby, to save it from contagion, and she still meant to do her duty. But the comfortable sense of virtue left her. She was in the presence of something greater than right or wrong.
Forgetting that this was an interview, he had strolled back into the room, driven by the instinct she had aroused in him. “Wake up!” he cried to his baby, as if it was some grown-up friend. Then he lifted his foot and trod lightly on its stomach.
Miss Abbott cried, “Oh, take care!” She was unaccustomed to this method of awakening the young.