“Whoever it is,” continued Aggie, “the truth is bound to come out. Alfred will have to know sooner or later, so we might as well make a clean breast of it, first as last.”
“That's the first sensible thing you've said in three months,” declared Jimmy with reviving hope.
“Oh, is that so?” sneered Zoie, and she levelled her most malicious look at Jimmy. “What do you think Alfred would do to YOU, Mr. Jimmy, if he knew the truth? YOU'RE the one who sent him the telegram; you are the one who told him that he was a FATHER.”
“That's true,” admitted Aggie, with a wrinkled forehead.
Zoie was quick to see her advantage. She followed it up. “And Alfred hasn't any sense of humour, you know.”
“How could he have?” groaned Jimmy; “he's married.” And with that he sank into his habitual state of dumps.
“Your sarcasm will do a great deal of good,” flashed Zoie. Then she dismissed him with a nod, and crossed to her dressing table.
“But Zoie,” persisted Aggie, as she followed her young friend in trepidation, “don't you realise that if you persist in keeping this baby, that mother will dog Jimmy's footsteps for the rest of his life?”
“That will be nice,” murmured Jimmy.
Zoie busied herself with her toilet, and turned a deaf ear to Aggie. There was a touch of genuine emotion in Aggie's voice when she continued.