"Why, I've accepted," Fidelia said, "but I'll tell George we can't go."
"Do you mind?"
"Of course I don't," she said with ready compliance as she always acceded when she gave up what she expected to do. She went up with him to their room and, as soon as the door was closed, she was in his arms, offering her warm lips. He kissed her lips and said, "You had rather a bad time with father this morning, I guess."
"Oh!" she said. "Oh!"
"I'm sorry, Fidel, I know he went for you. I told him it was none of his affair how we live. It's not; it's just yours and mine." And he kissed her again, fiercely.
"David!" she said.
"What?"
"Kiss me again like that. You haven't for so long!"
He kissed her again but it was not like that and he knew it; the fierceness of the other was from the fury of his defense of her against his father. Of course Fidelia felt it was not like the other. She freed herself, but a few moments later, when he had thrown himself down on his bed and was staring at the ceiling, she knelt beside him, touching his cheek with her caressing fingers.
"David, do you think so much about a baby?" she whispered.
He sat up. "So he had the nerve to go after you about that!"
"Do you want a baby so much, David?" she asked.
"Not if you don't, I've told you. That's your
