" Her
father glared, for he knew about scandal, he handled it in his office each
day. "Let me manage this--please," she said. And her offer tempted him. He
struggled for a moment.
"No, I won't!" he burst out in reply. "I want quiet right enough, but not
at the price of her peace with her God!" This sounded foolish, he felt
that it did, and he flushed and grew the angrier. "No, I won't," he said
stubbornly. "She'll go back to him if I take her myself. And what's more,"
he added, rising, "she's to go straight back to-night!"
"She is not going back to-night, my dear." And Deborah caught her father's
arm. "Sit down, please--"
"I've heard enough!"
"I'm afraid you haven't," she replied.
"Very well." His smile was caustic. "Give me some more of it," he said.
"Her husband won't have her," said Deborah bluntly. "He told me so
himself--to-night."
"Did, eh--then _I'll_ talk to him!"
"He thinks," she went on in a desperate tone, "that Laura has been
leading--'her own little life'--as he put it to me."
"_Eh_?"
"He is bringing suit himself."
"_Oh! He is_!" cried Roger hoarsely. "Then I _will_ talk to this young
man!" But she put out a restraining hand:
"Father! Don't try to fight this suit!"
"You watch me!" he snarled. Tears showed in her eyes:
"Think! Oh, please! Think what you're doing! Have you ever seen a
divorce-court--here, in New York? Do you know what it's like? What it _can_
be like?"
"Yes," Roger panted.
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