it. But the preparation was merely like tensing one's muscles against a
fall. When the shock came, it stunned him.

"Vance, I've decided to adopt Terence!"

His fingertips sank into his cheek, bruising the flesh. What would become
of his six days of work? What would become of his cunning and his
forethought? All destroyed at a blow. For if she adopted the boy, the
very law would keep her from denying him afterward. For a moment it
seemed to him that some devil must have forewarned her of his plans.

"You don't approve?" she said at last, anxiously.

He threw himself back in the chair and laughed. All his despair went into
that hollow, ringing sound.

"Approve? It's a queer question to ask me. But let it go. I know I
couldn't change you."

"I know that you have a right to advise," she said gently. "You are my
father's son and you have a right to advise on the placing of his name."

He had to keep fighting against surging desires to throw his rage in her
face. But he mastered himself, except for a tremor of his voice.

"When are you going to do it?"

"Tomorrow."

"Elizabeth, why not wait until after the birthday ceremony?"