Mrs. Ritson, without shifting the determination of her gaze from the nervous fingers in her lap, said:
"What condition?"
Mr. Bonnithorne twisted slightly, and glanced significantly at Hugh as he answered:
"The condition of illegitimacy."
Something supercilious in the tone jarred on Mrs. Ritson's ear. She looked up from her knitting, and said:
"What do you mean?"
Bonnithorne placed his knife and fork with precision over his empty plate, used his napkin with deliberation, coughed slightly, and said: "I mean that the law denies the name of son to offspring that has been bastardized."
Mrs. Ritson's face grew crimson, and she rose to her feet.
"If so, the law is cruel and wicked," she said in a voice more tremulous with emotion.
Mr. Bonnithorne leaned languidly back in his chair, ejected a long "hem" from his overburdened chest, inserted his fingers in the armpits of his waistcoat, looked up, and said: "Odd, isn't it?"