White assured her. “I am sorry. Capes most unfair,” Miss Klegg went on in a small, even voice; “MOST unfair! I’m glad you spoke out as you did. “My wife refused absolutely to have anything more to do with me. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. She had seen for herself right up in the bedroom window with her binoculars when Joanie was gone shopping one night, right with her own eyes. “Morning, Mom. “I thought you were coming right across the Park. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.
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