‘Yes, I shall be glad,’ Dot said with great steadiness.
Baby’s portrait smiled at him from the stand on the table.
‘There is the child, of course,’ he said heavily.
[p 119]
]Dot sprang up. Husband had been so far before child that she had forgotten there was any one else in the world. But she remembered now.
‘He is mine,’ she said, ‘mine, of course, there is no question about that. What are you thinking of? you can go if you like, but he is mine.’ Her eyes glittered.
He had known this would be the worst difficulty; him she gave up easily—gladly even, but the child she would fight for to the last.
His anger came to white heat again.
‘I shall keep the child,’ he said slowly, ‘he is mine equally, he will be better with me.’
Dot laughed hysterically. ‘The mother always keeps it in these cases. I believe you are going mad, Larrie.’
‘I believe I am,’ he said very quietly.