Lorry suddenly straightened in his chair. Mrs. Adams, anticipating his question, nodded to Waring.
"Yes," said Waring; "I am the Waring of Sonora that you are thinking about."
Lorry flushed. "I—I guess you are," he stammered. "Mother, you never told me that."
"You were too young to understand, Lorry."
"And is that why you left him?"
"Yes."
"Well, maybe you were right. But dad sure looks like a pretty decent hombre to me."
They laughed in a kind of relief. The occasion had seemed rather strained.
"Ask your mother, Lorry. I am out of it." And, rising Waring strode to the doorway.
Lorry rose.