Baron was silenced for a moment. “Well, then,” he asked at length, “what is your sizing up of the case?”
“I think she was deserted, maybe because for the moment she was a burden. I think some tin-horn manager is looking for her now. And here’s another thing I know. I want her myself!”
“But you were just saying——”
“Well, then, my wife wants her. It’s the same thing. She made up her mind, and now she won’t change it. When I went home that night and reported that we couldn’t have her, she began to cry. She wouldn’t leave her bed the next morning. She’s been sick ever since. She’ll lie for hours at a time without saying anything but—‘I wish we could have had the little girl.’ It’s nonsense, of course; but you have to take things as you find them. The doctor says I must get her interested in something—as if the thing were perfectly simple. If he’d ever run a theatre he’d know what it means to get anybody interested. Well, there....” He calmed himself suddenly and leaned toward Baron. His next words were little more than whispered. “You see,” he said, “I’m fond of her—of the wife. I don’t know if you could understand how I feel. She’s all I’ve got, and there’s a good bit of the child about her, and she hasn’t been quite well for a long time. She needs me to think and plan for her—to understand her, as far as I can. You interested her in this child. She wants her. And I want her to have her.”
“That’s plain,” said Baron. He was trying not to be too much influenced by the manager’s sudden humility, his voicing of a need. So far as he knew, he had his own rights in the case. And above everything else there was to be considered Bonnie May’s right. If it seemed best for her to remain in the mansion, there, Baron resolved, she should remain, until he was forced to release her. “That’s plain,” he repeated. “I think it makes the case simple enough. At least it makes it simpler. Why not communicate with these people who are advertising? If they have any claim on her you can come to terms with them. They ought to be glad to see her placed in a good home. If they haven’t any claims, the sooner we know it the better.”
“I don’t intend to pay any attention to them,” declared Thornburg. He was sullen and stubborn again.
“Well, of course it isn’t up to you,” agreed Baron mildly. “It’s I who must do it, as of course I shall.”
“That’s precisely what I don’t want you to do. That’s why I sent for you.”
Baron flushed. “But—” he objected.
“Do you know what’ll happen if you show your hand? I’ll tell you. A lot of mountebanks will be pouring into your house. They’ll make it look like a third-rate booking agency. Your people will like that!”