“I want to give her another.”
“It would be no use.”
“But why not?”
“You see, little Omar was always there when you were living there.”
“Well?”
“He was part of her life with you.”
“Oh—yes.”
Dion looked rather hard at Beatrice. In that moment he began to realize how much of the intelligence of the heart she possessed, and how widely she applied it. His application of his intelligence of the heart was, he feared, much less widespread than hers.
“Go to see mother when you can, will you?” he said. “She’s very fond of you, I think.”
“I’ll go. I like going to her.”