"He was our only child."
Flossie appeared, towing a white-haired, distinguished-looking man, a Mr.
Folk. She introduced him and immediately disappeared. Joan wished she
had been left alone a little longer. She would like to have heard more.
Especially was she curious concerning Abner, the lady's third. Would the
higher moral law compel him, likewise, to leave the poor lady saddled
with another couple of children? Or would she, on this occasion, get
in--or rather, get off, first? Her own fancy was to back Abner. She did
catch just one sentence before Miss Tolley, having obtained more food for
reflection than perhaps she wanted, signalled to her secretary that the
note-book might be closed.
"Woman's right to follow the dictates of her own heart, uncontrolled by
any law," the Human Document was insisting: "That is one of the first
things we must fight for."
Mr. Folk was a well-known artist. He lived in Paris. "You are
wonderfully like your mother," he told Joan. "In appearance, I mean," he
added. "I knew her when she was Miss Caxton. I acted with her in
America.
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