her awkward position.

“I just want to forget if I can,” Molly sobbed. “I don’t know where the baby is. That’s why I want to forget. I can’t find him.”

“Can’t find him? What do you mean by ‘can’t find him’?”

Molly faced about squarely, suddenly.

“I’ve asked you not to talk about it. I’ve been terribly unhappy and so miserable.... It’s only lately I’ve begun to be at all reconciled.”

“Nevertheless, I will hear,” snapped the man angrily. 38 “I will hear! Begin back from the letter you wrote me.”

38

“Asking you to help me?” questioned the girl.

“Yes, asking me to help you, if you want to be blunt. Molly, it won’t make you any happier to hatch up old scores. I tell you I’ve come to make amends—to take you—if you will––”

“And I repeat, I can’t go with you!”

“We’ll leave that discussion until later. Begin back where I told you to.”

Molly’s face was very white, and her lids drooped wearily. Virginia wanted so much to help her! She made a little uneasy movement under the table, but Molly’s tragic voice was speaking again.

“My father’d kill me if he knew about it, so I never told him or any one.”

“Including me,” cut in the man sarcastically.

“You didn’t care,” said Molly with asperity.

“How do you know I didn’t care? Did you tell me? Did you? Did I know?”

Molly shook her head.

“Then I insist upon knowing now, this moment!”

“My father would have killed me––”

“Well!” His voice rushed in upon her hesitancy.

 Prev. P 24/276 next