Dyckman broke in, "or you'll have me on
your hands." She needed only her husband's hostility to inflame her
in defense of her son. "If he's married, he's married, and words
won't divorce him. We might as well make the best of it. I've no
doubt the girl is a darling, or Jim wouldn't have cared for her.
Would you, Jimsy?"
"Naturally not," Jim agreed, with a rather sickly enthusiasm.
"Is she nice-looking?"
"She is famous for her beauty."
"Famous! Oh, Heavens! That sounds ominous. You mean she's
well known?"
"Very--in certain circles."
"In certain circles!" Mrs. Dyckman was like a terrified echo. She
had known of such appalling misalliances that there was no telling
how far her son might have descended.
Old Dyckman snarled, "Do you mean that you've gone slumming for
a wife?"
Jim dared not answer this. His mother ignored it, too. But her
thoughts were in a panic.
"What circles is she famous in, your wife, for her beauty?"
Jim could not achieve the awful word "movies" at the moment. He
prowled round it.
"In professional circles."
"Oh, an actress, then?"
"Well, sort of."
"They call everything an actress nowadays. She isn't a--a chorus-girl
or a show-girl?"
"Lord, no!" His indignation was reassuring to a degree.
His father broke in again, "It might save a few hours of dodging
and cross-examination if you'd tell us who and what she is."
"She is known professionally as Anita Adair."
So parochial a thing is fame that the title which millions of
people had learned to know and love meant absolutely nothing to
the Dyckmans.
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