"I hope so, Mrs. Price," he agreed, coming forward, his lids drooping as if to shut out the painful sight of them all. He smiled in shame. They shook hands.
"Now, Papa!" Winnie led her father forward by his coat sleeve.
"How-d'ye-do, Farley? How-d'ye-do?" Mr. Price was bluff and reluctant. Their hands barely touched. Laurence kept his glance on the carpet.
"Now I am so happy!" Winnie clung to her husband's arm. Her softness sank into him. He felt that if he lived he must harden himself against it. When she finally freed him he drew a deep unconscious breath. Then he forced his somber eyes full on Mrs. Price's face. "I am thankful, for Winnie's sake, that you and Mr. Price made up your minds to this," he said.
"We won't reproach ourselves with the past, Mr. Farley," Mr. Price interrupted. He would not allow his wife to be addressed in lieu of himself.
"I've never reproached myself, Mr. Price," Laurence answered coldly. Still he looked away.
"I don't doubt it, Mr. Laurence Farley! I don't doubt it!" Mr. Price's manner was full of secret scorn. He rocked on his toes and sucked his mustache ends again.
"The babies are dears," Mrs. Price said. "Bobby is wonderful."
Laurence regarded Bobby. "Sit up. Hold your head up. Don't act as though you were half asleep."
"Don't be cross with him, Laurie!" Winnie pouted. Laurence was torn. He must refuse to praise Bobby as the Prices praised him. Laurence felt that he could not protect his child against the approbation of his enemies. May sidled up to her father. When she touched him he did not look down at her, but put his arm about her. He held his shame of her close in his heart like a wound that he would not let be seen. He stroked her hair.