"And now that you've seen her, and found her to be an adorable,
lovely, even high-bred little creature, you think it's all right to
take her into your own home--into her father's home?"

"Don't be hard on me, Bingle. Can't you understand that I've got a
father's feelings after all? Can't you credit me with--"

"I'll go back a dozen years, Force, and ask you this question: did you
make any effort to find this child and provide for her when she was a
tiny baby? Did you do anything toward helping the mother in her time
of trouble?"

"I tried to help her, Bingle, before God I did," cried Force
earnestly. "I'm not such a rotter as all that. Agnes wrote me a brief
note when the baby was born. I happened to be off on my wedding-
journey at the time. She said she merely wanted me to know that she
had a little girl baby, and she went on to say that she'd starve
before she'd take a penny from me for its support. That's the truth,
Bingle, I swear it. When I got back from California, I tried to find
Agnes. I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to make the rest of
her life easy and comfortable. But I couldn't find her."

"Did you hunt very long?"

"Long enough. A year or so later I heard that she was dead and that
the child had been taken into a good home. There was nothing more for
me to do. I dropped the matter. Then, recently, I began to think about
the child. I began to want her. I engaged detectives to--"

"We know all about that," interrupted Mr. Bingle crisply. "And now I