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 wife. You can accompany me, if you wish, of course."

"I shall sail," he added, "the seventh of October."

He was as white, by then, as the wedding-dress of Banny Doodle, whom Marion had dragged contemptuously by one leg, and flung head downward in her father's arms. I stood staring at those two spots of whiteness—the doll's dress and the man's face. Everything else in the room had turned black. I could not even see my child. But I heard her rippling:

"Pity Popper!"

I think she asked him to kiss her. And I think he did.