I've a sneaking regard for Greatorex. He isn't half
a bad fellow if you take him the right way."
"Well, then, can't you take him? Can't you say a judicious word?"
"If it's to ask him to marry Essy, that wouldn't be very judicious,
I'm afraid. He'll marry her if he wants to, and if he doesn't, he
won't."
"But, my dear Dr. Rowcliffe, think of the gross injustice to that poor
girl."
"It might be a worse injustice if he married her. Why _should_ he
marry her if he doesn't want to, and if she doesn't want it? There
she is, perfectly content and happy with her baby. It's been a little
seedy lately, but it's absolutely sound. A very fine baby indeed, and
Essy knows it. There's nothing wrong with the baby."
Rowcliffe continued, regardless of the Vicar's stare: "She's
better off as she is than tied to a chap who isn't a bit too sober.
Especially if he doesn't care for her."
The Vicar rose and took up his usual defensive position on the hearth.
"Well, Dr. Rowcliffe, if those are your ideas of morality----?"
"They are not my ideas of morality, only my judgment of the individual
case."
"Well--if that's your judgment, after all, I think that the less you
meddle with it the better."
"I never meddle," said Rowcliffe.
But the Vicar did not leave him. He had caught the sound of the
opening and shutting of the gate. He listened.
His manner changed again to a complete affability.
"I think that's Alice.
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