He told her then of the revelation that had come to him, and how he had taken her in his arms, in a fury of love and despair.
“But I thought it was a dream!” she murmured.
“No. I found you then––and myself––and thought it was too late!”
Later, across the table, when Slim Jim had brought in the after-dinner coffee, Haig looked at her gravely, and said:
“May I become very practical for a minute, Marion?”
“Yes, but not too practical.”
“Well, it’s like this: I’ve got––”
He paused to reach for her hand, to clasp it on the cloth.
“When, Marion?” he asked, leaning toward her.
“Oh, we must talk with Claire about that, mustn’t we?” she protested, blushing. Then softly: “She’s the only mother I’ve got, you see. And besides, there’s no––”