Part 19 (2/2)
”It's something about me?”
”Yes. It's something about you. If I may say it.”
”You may say anything you please. You know that.”
”Well, I wanted very much to know whether--whether you were fond of children.”
”Oh----” She drew a long breath, as if released from torture. Then she laughed the indescribable half-sobbing laugh of a child tormented and suddenly set free.
”Whether I were fond of children. Do you honestly mean it? Was that what you weren't sure of?”
”Well, of course, in a way I knew--but I couldn't tell, you know, till I'd seen you with one.”
”Well, and so you can tell now?”
”Yes. I can tell now.”
”And if I am fond of children, what difference does that make?”
”It makes all the difference. You see, I've got two little girls----”
”Two little girls.” She repeated it after him smiling, as if she played with the vision of them.
”You see--they've no mother. My wife----”
”I know,” she said softly.
”How did you know?”
”I can't tell you.”
”My wife died five years ago when my youngest little girl was born.”
”And I thought,” she said, ”you were so young.”
”I'm thirty-five.”
”Still I was right. You're young. Very young.”
”Oh, well, don't you know, they say a woman's as young as she looks, and a man's as young as he feels. I _feel_ all right.”
”You dear.” Her mouth and eyes said it without a sound.
”Are you quite sure that's all you want to know?”
”I had to know it.”
”It was so important?”
<script>