We aren’t worth it. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. 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. Living’s just material. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre.
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