“The issue?” she repeated.
“The child,” he replied.
“I do not quite understand,” she said.
“I mean that she has vowed that my protégée shall not pass the night beneath this roof. I am determined that Sweetheart shall remain until I restore her to her friends.”
The pale determination of his handsome face was so marked that she trembled with dread.
“But what if her friends should never be found? What then, Norman?”
“She would have to remain my protégée,” he replied, firmly.
She trembled at the firmness of his tone. Her prophetic mind saw endless vistas of perplexity and trouble looming dimly in the future. The thought came:
“Better, perhaps, if the child had perished with her mother!”
Then her heart smote her as a low, grieving sob broke from the little cherub in its sleep.