Doctor Mosely's beatitude turned to a sick disgust. Red and white streaked his face. His first definite reaction was wrath at the trick that had been played upon him.
“Mrs. Cheever! This is unworthy of you! You distress me! Really!”
“I was a little distressed myself. What am I to do?”
“I will not believe what you say.”
“I heard her confess it—boast of it. She agrees with you that the tiny hands will bring her and the father together and confirm the sacrament.”
“It can't be. It must not be!”
“You don't advocate that form of birth-control? They are arresting people who preach prevention of conception. You are not so modern as that.”
“Hush!”
“What am I to do? You advise me to possess my soul in patience for years. But the child won't wait that long. Doesn't the situation alter your opinion of divorce?”
“No!”