“Not at all. Mother and Son. I think you will find that his story will be believed, whatever I say; and in any case, if he is going to stay on here, I shall have to go away. CHAPTER III. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but he is no longer a man but a child. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow.
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