Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. “They would spoil every chance. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes.
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