A man’s children nowadays are not his own. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. ’ ‘In a somewhat roundabout fashion, if you ask me,’ came in a mutter from her old nurse, very much in her usual style.
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