You've had your day, or the part of it that matters most. But her time
is not yet even begun. It's all--all--before her. You say you'll take
her away--well, to what? To what will you take her? What have you got
to give her? What--"

"I have the three hundred and twenty acres out there"--he pointed
westward--"and I will make a home and begin again with her."

"Three hundred and twenty acres--'out there'!" she exclaimed in scorn.
"Any one can have a farm here for the askin'. What is that? Is it a
home? What have you got to start a home with? Do you deny you are no
better than a tramp? Have you got a hundred dollars in the world? Have
you got a roof over your head? Have you got a trade? You'll take
her where--to what? Even if you had a home, what then? You would have
to get someone to look after her--some old crone, a wench maybe, who'd be
as fit to bring up a child as I would be to--" she paused and looked
round in helpless quest for a simile, when, in despair, she caught sight
of Jean Jacques' watch-chain--"as I would be to make a watch !" she
added.

Instinctively Jean Jacques drew out the ancient timepiece he had worn on
the Grand Tour; which had gone down with the Antoine and come up with
himself. It gave him courage to make the fight for his own.

"The good God would see that--" he began.

"The good God doesn't interfere in bringing up babies," she retorted.
"That's the work for the fathers and mothers, or godfathers and
godmothers."