He threw the
cigarette into the empty fireplace and stood up. "I think I'll
take your advice and marry Miss Severance."
"Really!" mocked Grant; but he was red with anger, was muttering
under his breath, "Insolent puppy!"
"Yes, I think she'll do." Craig spoke as if his verdict were
probably overpartial to her. "It's queer about families and the
kind of children they have. Every once in a while you'll find a
dumb ass of a man whose brain will get to boiling with liquor or
some other ferment, and it'll incubate an idea, a real idea. It's
that way about paternity--or, rather, maternity. Now who'd think
that inane, silly mother of Margaret's could have brought such a
person as she is into the world?"
"Mrs. Severence is a very sweet and amiable LADY," said Grant
coldly.
"Pooh!" scoffed Craig. "She's a nothing--a puff of wind--a nit.
Such as she, by the great gross, wouldn't count one."
"I doubt if it would be--wise--politically, I mean--for you to
marry a woman of--of the fashionable set." Grant spoke judicially,
with constraint in his voice.
"You're quite right there," answered Craig promptly. "Still, it's
a temptation....I've been reconsidering the idea since I
discovered that she loves me.
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