She reached out hers courteously, but her fingers gave him no response.
"We have many things to say to each other," she said, "but they cannot be said now. I shall be missed from the ballroom."
"Missed from the ballroom!" He almost laughed to think how strange this sounded in his ears. As if interpreting his thought, she added: "You see, it is our last affair of the season, and we are all anxious to do our duty perfectly. Will you go down with me? We can talk afterwards."
Her continued self-possession utterly confused him. She had utterly confused Marion also, when told that her husband was in the house. She had had presentiments, and, besides, she had been schooling herself for this hour for a long time. She turned towards the door.
"But," he asked, like a supplicant, "our child! I want to see the boy."
She lifted her eyebrows, then, seeing the photograph of the baby on the table, understood how he knew. "Come with me, then," she said, with a little more feeling.
She led the way along the landing, and paused at her door. "Remember that we have to appear amongst the guests directly," she said, as though to warn him against any demonstration. Then they entered. She went over to the cot and drew back the fleecy curtain from over the sleeping boy's head. His fingers hungered to take his child to his arms. "He is magnificent—magnificent!" he said, with a great pride. "Why did you never let me know of it?"
"How could I tell what you would do?" she calmly replied. "You married me—wickedly, and used me wickedly afterwards; and I loved the child."
"You loved the child," he repeated after her. "Lali," he added, "I don't deserve it, but forgive me, if you can—for the child's sake."
"We had better go below," she calmly replied. "We have both duties to do. You will of course—appear with me—before them?"