"I guess she liked me. She said she wanted me to stay."
"That’s good!" he cried, very much pleased. "If Polly’ll take an interest in you, you’ll be absolutely all right. She’s a splendid woman."
"But she’s so much older than you!" thought Angelica. "It’s so queer!"
"Yes," he went on, "Polly’s one of the best. Of course she’s not herself now, losing the little chap. He was nearly two years old, and a fine little fellow. Poor girl! She was wrapped up in him. We all were, for that matter."
Angelica was puzzled.
"But," she said, "don’t you——”
"Don’t I what?"
"I mean—it must be nearly as bad for you as for her."
"What? Why, there’s no comparison between a son and a nephew."
"For Gawd’s sake! Wasn’t he your son?"