Charity had run that gantlet and was ready to run it again on another errand of mercy, but first she must make sure that Zada's baby should not enter the world before its mother entered wedlock.
After McNiven had proffered her a chair and she had exclaimed upon the grandeur of the harborscape, she began:
“Sandy, I've come to see you about—”
“One moment!” McNiven broke in. “Before you speak I must as an honest lawyer warn you against the step you contemplate.”
“But you don't know what it is yet.”
“I don't have to. I know that people come to lawyers only to get out of scrapes or to get into scrapes dishonestly or unwisely. Furthermore, every step that any human being contemplates is a dangerous one and bound to lead to trouble.”
“Oh, hush!” said Charity. “Am I supposed to pay you for that sort of advice?”
“Being a friend, and a woman, and very rich, you will doubtless never pay me at all. But let me warn you, Charity, that there is nothing in life more dangerous than taking a step in any possible direction—unless it is staying where you are.”
“Oh, dear,” sighed Charity, “you're worse than dear Doctor Mosely.”
“Ah, you've been to the dear old doctor! And he's refused to help you. When the Church denies a woman her way she comes to the devil. You interest me. It's a divorce, then?”