Van Ostrand looked at his cigar-end, approved of the ash, and looked back up at the girl. "Only legally," he said.
She gazed back at him uncomprehendingly.
"Your mother," Van Ostrand continued, "was, shall we say, something of a schemer."
"From you," snapped Nikki, "that's very funny."
The fat man chuckled hugely. "Indeed it is! I admit the beauty of your penetrating witticism, my dear. No, compared with me, your mother was practically the epitome of virtue and guilelessness. But she had her path made easy, while I did not. I hardly think I could have managed to marry the great Dr. Marcus Varden!" He chuckled jovially at his own wit.
However, I had to agree with his last remark. I don't think he could have passed the physical.
"At least my mother was married to my father," Nikki said bitingly.
"Hoho!" the fat man laughed hugely. "You improve, my dear, really you do. Yes, indeed she was. And when she married Dr. Varden, she married a man who was already a millionaire several times over. He was not only capable of doing basic research into the laws of the universe, but of capitalizing on them. He was one of those truly rare persons, the all-around genius. It was as if Newton had been able to invent and use an antigravity device, or if Einstein had perfected the atomic bomb and sold it to the United States Government."
"Why are you telling me things I already know?" Nikki asked sarcastically.
The fat man looked astonished. "Why, my dear child! You screamed at me just a few moments ago, wanting me to talk, to explain. I am explaining, but we have plenty of time"—he gestured at the big ornate clock on the wall—"so I'm taking plenty. Otherwise, I might finish the story too soon, and you would become bored again."