He turned the knob, threw the door wide for Tetlow
to enter first. Then, over Tetlow's shoulder he saw on the marble-topped
center table Dorothy's hat and jacket, the one she had worn away, the
only one she had. He stared at them, then at Tetlow. A confused look in
the fat, slow face made him say sharply:

"What does this mean, Tetlow?"

"Not so loud, Fred," said Tetlow, closing the door into the public hall.
"She's in the bedroom--probably asleep. She's been here since
yesterday."

"You brought her back?" demanded Norman.

"She wanted to come. I simply----"

Norman made a silencing gesture. Tetlow's faltering voice stopped short.
Norman stood near the table, his hands deep in his trousers' pockets,
his gaze fixed upon the hat and jacket. When Tetlow's agitation could
bear the uncertainties of that silence no longer, he went on:

"Fred, you mustn't forget how young and inexperienced she is. She's been
foolish, but nothing more. She's as pure as when she came into the
world. And it's the truth that she wanted to come back. I saw it as soon
as I began to talk with her."

"What are you chattering about?" said Norman fiercely. "Why did you
meddle in my affairs? Why did you bring her back?"

"I knew she needed you," pleaded Tetlow. "Then, too--I was afraid--I
knew how you acted before, and I thought you'd not get your gait again
until you had her."

Norman gave a short sardonic laugh. "If you'd only stop trying to
understand me!" he said.

Tetlow was utterly confused. "But, Fred, you don't realize--not all," he
cried imploringly. "She discovered--she thinks, I believe--that
is--she--she--that probably--that in a few months you'll be something
more than a husband--and she something more than a wife--that
you--that--you and she will be a father and a mother."

Tetlow's meaning slowly dawned on Norman. He seated himself in his
favorite attitude, legs sprawled, fingers interlaced behind his head.

"Wasn't I right to bring her back--to tell her she needn't fear to
come?" pleaded Tetlow.

Norman made no reply. After a brief silence he said: "Well, good night,
old man. Come round to my office any time after ten." He rose and gave
Tetlow his hand. "And arrange for Galloway whenever you like. Good
night."

Tetlow hesitated. "Fred--you'll not be harsh to her?" he said.

Norman smiled--a satirical smile, yet exquisitely gentle. "If you _only_
wouldn't try to understand me, Bill," he said.

When he was alone he sat