"You needn't be responsible," she said eagerly. "You need never see it. You've been generous enough to me in what you've given me. I shan't ask for a penny more—I shan't use the child to extract money from you. You'll never hear from me again. After all, you have loved me," she said piteously. "You did love me once."
He turned angrily away. "My God!" he exclaimed. "You talk as if you were out of your mind! If I did have a child, I should want to see it. I shouldn't want to be ashamed of it; I shouldn't want to disown it, as you'd have me do."
"Well, then, you might see it as often as you wished."
He strode to the door. She must have it now. He had meant to say nothing, wishing to save her feelings; but she must have it now.
"Then I'm engaged to be married," he said firmly. "Do you see now that it's impossible?"
She dropped into a chair, staring strangely at his face.
"You—married?" she whispered.
"Yes; and I've no desire to have things cropping up in my life afterwards, just in the way that this Mrs. Priestly in the divorce courts—"
Sally struggled to her feet.
"Mrs. Priestly?"