and other men had been injured by an explosion. The child's mother—Peewee was not yet sure who that was—had been at the time in New York with her baby but no other member of her family. Obliged to hasten to her wounded husband, she had sent the child in charge of its nurse to her family in Chicago. The train was wrecked on the Lake Front and the car that they were in was burned. The body of the nurse was found with a dead child whom fire had made unrecognizable clasped in her arms.
It was, Peewee recognized, unfortunate for the woman; she had lost both her husband and her child.
He rather liked the naval officer's name—Lieutenant Arthur Cord. The child's name too had been Arthur. As he reflected on these things, her feelings broke from her control.
"Baby, baby, don't you understand? I am your mother, darling boy—your mother!"
He felt her kisses on his cheeks and mouth; her lips, which had felt always cool and sweet before, were hot, burning almost as Helen Lam-
