It was the truth. Clever and discerning as she was, she had put off the inevitable from day to day, basking in the glamour of the present. What would her lover say? Would he be ready to venture all for her sake? to throw convention to the winds and glory in their passion? She did not know; she had never asked him. They had never discussed the future. She needed time—time to think and time to ascertain. Then a sudden thought seized her, and she spoke:
"I shall take Guen."
"Guen?" There were agony and revolting consternation in his exclamation.
"I am her mother. She is a mere baby. Am I not her natural guardian?"
He sprang to his feet. "I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should go to law; I should appeal to the courts."
"I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should go to law;
I should appeal to the courts."
Her wits showed themselves her allies. "But if you drive me from this house, the courts will give her to me," she said triumphantly. "What, after all, have I done? You are jealous, and you dismiss me. They will let me have my baby."