“No. I don’t like to kill things.”
“And your father rather enjoys it?”
“N-no.” She hesitated. “But he must. For they are bad, and would hurt us and take away—”
“Take away what?” demanded Sheldon sharply.
But she shut her lips tight, and the suspicion came back into her eyes.
“Oh, well,” he said hastily, “it doesn’t matter. Only you can rest assured that I didn’t come to take anything away. Unless,” lightly, though with deep earnestness under the tone, “you will let me take you and your father back with me?”
The look of suspicion changed to sudden terror.
“No, no!” she cried. “We won’t go—”
“You’d see other women, and they’d be good to you,” he went on gently. “You’d see their babies, and you’d love them. You’d have girls of your own age to talk with. You’ve got to believe me, Paula. The world isn’t filled with wicked people. That’s all a mistake.”
He thought that she wanted to believe him. She looked for one brief instant hungry to believe. He pressed the point. But in the end she shook her head.