"Yes; about his having been married and divorced, and that he has a child living, a boy whom he is educating in England."
"That's all fool-talk about the boy." The Doctor spoke testily. "I don't mind telling you that he was married, as of course you know, and lost his wife. I don't mind telling you that he was divorced from her; I suppose that is a matter of public record somewhere. I don't know who she was—or what she was; he is loyal to that memory. But there is no boy in the case."
He tossed his cigar into the fire and began tapping the floor rapidly with the tip of his boot.
"I inferred, of course, from a remark he made to me then, that there was a child mixed up in the affair—"
"All this must be the foundation for the rumors, then?" I said.
"Yes; but if Ewart has a child, and I am convinced he has—"
"You are?" I asked in amazement, thereby proving to the Doctor that I had never given credence to this part of the report.
He nodded emphatically, looking away from me into the fire. "If he has a child, I know it to be a girl—no boy."
"I had n't thought of that."
"I see you have n't," he said dryly; then, clearing his throat, he turned squarely to me, speaking deliberately, as if hoping every word would carry conviction.