"In a way, yes," said Mr. Force coolly. "In the customary way, of course. You see, I was about to be married, Bingle. When I explained the situation to her, she understood. She knew that I couldn't go on leading the sort of life I'd led before--" "You hesitate, Force. Why couldn't you go on leading the life you'd led before? I should say it was quite as decent at one time as another." "By Jove, Single, I hadn't the remotest idea you were so simple. I thought you at least knew SOMETHING about life. You amaze me. You are positively refreshing. Let me ask you, Bingle, would you have gone on leading the old life as--now, man to man, Bingle--would you?" "Yes," said Mr. Bingle simply. A queer unexpected little smile flitted across his face--a wry smile, perhaps, but still a sign of humour. "You see, Force, I love children." Mr. Force stared at him without comprehension. What the DEUCE had that to do with it? "Oh, well, you can't understand, of course. To make it short, she was extremely reasonable. As a matter of fact, when I went up to see her the day after I had told her that I was to be married, hang me if she hadn't cleared out. No scene, no tears, no maledictions--just good, hard sense, Bingle, that's what it was. Not many of them would have been so decent about it. They usually make a bluff or something of the sort--money, you know, regular blackmail. But she didn't. She got out as quietly as a mouse, left no trace behind, no regrets, no complaints. Just a note saying she understood and wishing me luck. Rather fine, eh?" "And you married right after that?" "Six weeks afterward." "And, of course, the present Mrs. Hinman knows that she's got a step-daughter?" "The present Mrs. Hinman? Step-daughter? Good Lord, Bingle, I didn't know you had that much sarcasm in you. But that delicate remark of yours brings me back to the main issue--the matter I really came over to see you about. Naturally Mrs. Force knows nothing of--of this story I've been telling you. Now, what I want to get at is just this: how can we manage it about Kathleen without causing my wife to suspect? Put your mind to it, Bingle. How am I going to take the child under my wing, so to speak--take her into my home, without--" "Wait! We'll look at it from another point of view. Suppose this detective of yours had found your child in the slums of New York, a street waif, a beggar--what then? Was it your intention to take her into your home in that case? Wasn't it your idea to provide a home for her in some respectable family, educate her, give her a secret allowance--and let it go at that? Can you honestly say to me, Force, that you intended to adopt her--as you are now thinking of doing?" "Confound you, Bingle, isn't it only reasonable that I should have wanted to see the child before I made any definite plans for her future?"