"Belong to?"
"Who got him when you were divorced? Did you?"
"Oh, I got everything," she said, her instinct of self-defense on the
alert.
"So I thought." He stood before her, stoutly planted on his short legs,
and speaking with an aggressive energy. "Well, I know what I'd do if he
was mine."
"If he was yours?"
"And you tried to get him away from me. Fight you to a finish! If it
cost me down to my last dollar I would."
The conversation seemed to be wandering from the point, and she
answered, with a touch of impatience: "It wouldn't cost you anything
like that. I haven't got a dollar to fight back with."
"Well, you ain't got to fight. Your decree gave him to you, didn't it?
Why don't you send right over and get him? That's what I'd do if I was
you."
Undine looked up. "But I'm awfully poor; I can't afford to have him
here."
"You couldn't, up to now; but now you're going to get married. You're
going to be able to give him a home and a father's care--and the
foreign languages. That's what I'd say if I was you...His father takes
considerable stock in him, don't he?"
She coloured, a denial on her lips; but she could not shape it. "We're
both awfully fond of him, of course... His father'd never give him up!"
"Just so." Moffatt's face had grown as sharp as glass. "You've got the
Marvells running. All you've got to do's to sit tight and wait for their
cheque." He dropped back to his equestrian seat on the lyre-backed
chair.
Undine stood up and moved uneasily toward the window. She seemed to
see her little boy as though he were in the room with her; she did not
understand how she could have lived so long without him...She stood for
a long time without speaking, feeling behind her the concentrated irony
of Moffatt's gaze.
"You couldn't lend me the money--manage to borrow it for me, I mean?"
she finally turned back to ask. He laughed. "If I could manage to borrow
any money at this particular minute--well, I'd have to lend every
dollar of it to Elmer Moffatt, Esquire. I'm stone-broke, if you want
to know. And wanted for an Investigation too. That's why I'm over here
improving my mind."
"Why, I thought you were going home next week?"
He grinned. "I am, because I've found out there's a party wants me to
stay away worse than the courts want me back. Making the trip just for
my private satisfaction--there won't be any money in it, I'm afraid."
Leaden disappointment descended on Undine. She had felt almost sure
of Moffatt's helping her, and for an instant she wondered if some
long-smouldering jealousy had flamed up under its cold cinders. But
another look at his face denied her this solace; and his evident
indifference was the last blow to her pride. The twinge it gave her
prompted her to ask: "Don't you ever mean to get married?"
Moffatt gave her a quick look. "Why, I shouldn't wonder--one of these
days. Millionaires always collect something; but I've got to collect my
millions first."
He spoke coolly and half-humorously, and before he had ended she had
lost all interest in his reply. He seemed aware of the fact, for he
stood up and held out his hand. "Well, so long, Mrs. Marvell. It's been
uncommonly pleasant to see you; and you'd better think over what I've
said."
She laid her hand sadly in his. "You've never had a child," she replied.