something to do with it," he said. "I think I am entitled to
part-ownership, anyway."

She shook her head, albeit she was very close to his breast. "You're
not, Billikins!" she declared, with vehemence. "You only say that--out
of pity. And I don't want pity. I--I'd rather you hated me than that!
Miles rather!"

His arms went round her. He uttered a queer, passionate laugh and drew
her to his heart. "And what if I offer you--love?" he said. "Have you no
use for that either, my wife--my wife?"

She turned and clung to him, clung fast and desperately, as a drowning
person clings to a spar. "But I'm not, Billikins! I'm not!" she
whispered, with her face hidden.

"You shall be," he made steadfast answer. "Before God you shall be."

"Ah, do you believe in God?" she murmured.

"I do," he said, firmly.

She gave a little sob. "Oh, Billikins, so do I. At least, I think I do;
but I'm half afraid, even now, though I did try to do--the right thing.
I shall only know for certain--when the dream comes true." Her face came
upwards, her lips moved softly against his neck. "Darling," she
whispered, "don't you hope--it'll be--a boy?"

He bent his head mutely. Somehow speech was difficult.