“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. “You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. "You're only twenty—not legally of age. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. I sat within a few feet of him. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. " He smiled at her as he smiled at death, cheerfully.
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