Mr. Brown removed his hand from his brow.
"You'll pardon my interrupting you," he said feebly, "but perhaps you would be good enough to give me some slight inkling of what you are talking about."
"Ah, you know," she said fervently, "in your soul—in your conscience—you know! Why pretend to me? I have had that dear child's company all afternoon and know what he has suffered." Here Mrs. Brown entered and the visitor turned to her. "And you," she went on, "you must be his mother. Can't you—won't you—give it up for the sake of your child?" Her voice quivered with emotion.
"I think, my dear," said Mr. Brown, "that you had better send for a doctor. This lady is not well."
"But who is she?" said Mrs. Brown.
"I don't know," said her husband; "she's someone William found."
The someone William found flung out her arms.
"Won't you?" she cried eloquently. "Can't you—for the sake of your own happiness as well as his—give it up?"
They stared at her.
"Madam," said Mr. Brown despairingly, "what do you wish us to give up?"