“I wonder! It doesn't look much like it at present.”
“Take the case of this woman.”
“Yes,” said Hilary, “take her case. You can't make this too clear to me, Martin.”
“She's no use—poor sort altogether. The man's no use. A man who's been wounded in the head, and isn't a teetotaller, is done for. The girl's no use—regular pleasure-loving type!”
Thyme flushed crimson, and, seeing that flood of colour in his niece's face, Hilary bit his lips.
“The only things worth considering are the children. There's this baby-well, as I said, the important thing is that the mother should be able to look after it properly. Get hold of that, and let the other facts go hang.”
“Forgive me, but my difficulty is to isolate this question of the baby's health from all the other circumstances of the case.”
Martin grinned.
“And you'll make that an excuse, I'm certain, for doing nothing.”
Thyme slipped her hand into Hilary's.