Eddie had arranged her affairs so that she once more received her decent little income. She didn’t enquire as to how he had done this. She suspected that for the present it must be coming direct from his pocket, but she preferred not to know. She had a vague intention of some day divorcing Vincent, but she was never capable of action without some spur. There wasn’t any cause now. She was rid of him, and she had her money again. Her deepest instinct--the instinct of a woman by temperament unfitted to make her own way in the world--caused her to value her money above anything. It meant all that was desirable in life--ease, dignity, and freedom. How happy she was in her loose, fresh white wrapper, looking so much younger, so much more charming--smoking her thin little cigarettes and reading some book which entirely engaged her attention--agreeably conscious, none the less, of a nice little supper left by her devoted servant in the ice-box! It was only half-past five, but she was growing hungry, and she was dallying with this idea of supper, when the door-bell rang. This was startling, for the boy in the hall down-stairs was supposed to stop intruders and to telephone up to her before admitting them. And so loud a ring! Again! She got up and opened the door. She gasped at the spectacle of Angelica with a baby in her arms. "My _dear_ Angelica!" she cried. "I never----” "Let me sit down," said Angelica. "I’m dead tired." So she came into Polly’s tranquil sitting-room, as out of place there as a wild animal--the fierce, rough Angelica with her wailing baby. She sat down on the sofa and held the child up--a wretched, frail little creature, with a wizen, troubled face. "See him? Two months old." "He’s sweet. But, my dear, I didn’t know you were married." "I’m not married. Listen, Mrs. Geraldine! I got to have a talk with you." "Of course! But, my dear, isn’t there something you could do for your baby? He seems so----” "He’s sick. He’s sick all the time; but the doctor says if he gets good care, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t grow up strong and all right. It does make him kind of an extra trouble now, but after you’ve had him here a few months, Mrs. Geraldine----” "_I’ve_ had him _here_!" "Listen!" cried Angelica, in anguish. "Please, please, Mrs. Geraldine, don’t say no! Wait till you hear. Wait till you think. Think about that baby you lost. Oh, do, for Gawd’s sake, Mrs. Geraldine, take this baby!" "My dear girl!" cried Polly. "You must be mad! What in the world are you talking about?" "Oh, please, please, please, for Gawd’s sake! Just think of the poor little feller you lost. Take this one instead. I _can’t_ keep him, Mrs. Geraldine. He’ll only die. You’re too good and kind to let a little baby die. You _got_ to take him. You’ll never have a moment’s peace, night or day, if you don’t!" "But, Angelica, it’s outrageous!"