" "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s name. " "True," replied the widow, upon whom all the terrible recollections of the day before crowded, "I know it isn't. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet.
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