Dandy Jim nodded and gave the papers back.
"This will be very embarrassing to Father Nolan," he said. "A young priest with his first church making a mistake like that.
The Bishop won't like it at all."
"The Bishop need never know," Marlowe said.
Dandy Jim stared at him thoughtfully but didn't speak.
Marlowe pressed. "There's an election coming up next year."
Dandy Jim nodded, "There's always an election."
"That's true," Marlowe said. "There will be other elections and campaigns. A candidate needs contributions almost as much as he needs votes."
Dandy Jim smiled. "Did I ever tell you I met your father?"
Marlowe smiled back. "No, you didn't. But my father often mentioned it.
He told me many times how he threw you out of his office."
Dandy Jim nodded. "That's true. Your father has a wild temper. One would almost take him for an Irishman.
And all I did was ask him for a small campaign contribution.
That was about twenty years ago. I was running for City Council then.
Do you know what he said to me then?" Marlowe shook his head. "He swore that if ever I was so much as elected to the post of dog-catcher, he'd take his family and move out."
Dandy Jim was smiling. "He won't like it when he hears you've contributed to my campaign fund."
Marlowe stood his ground. "My father is my father and I respect him very much," he said, "but what I do with my money and my politics is my concern, not his."
"You have other children?" Dandy Jim asked.
"A boy," Geraldine answered quickly. "Laddie is eight."
Dandy Jim smiled. "I don't know," he said. "Someday women will have the vote and if that little girl is brought up on the hill, that's one vote I may never get."
"I promise you this, Mr. Mayor," Geraldine said quickly. "If that day ever comes, the women of my household will always vote for you!"
Dandy Jim's smile grew broader. He made a courtly bow.
"It is a weakness of politicians to always be making deals."
The next day, Timothy Kelly, the mayor's secretary, appeared at Marlowe's office in the bank and picked up a check for five hundred dollars.
He suggested that Marlowe talk to a certain judge in the municipal court.
It was there the adoption was made. Quickly, quietly and legally.
When Marlowe departed the judge's chambers, he left with the judge a birth certificate for one white female child named Katrina Osterlaag.
In his pocket was a birth certificate in the name of his daughter, Rina Marlowe.
4.
UNDERNEATH THE OVERSIZED UMBRELLA PLANTED in the sand, Geraldine Marlowe sat in a canvas chair, her parasol at her side. Slowly she moved her fan back and forth.
"I can't remember a summer as hot as this," she said breathlessly. "It must be over ninety here in the shade."
Her husband grunted from the chair next to hers, his head still immersed in the Boston newspaper, which arrived on the Cape one day late. "What did you say. Harry?"
He folded his paper and looked at his wife.
"That Wilson's a damn fool!"
Geraldine was still looking at the ocean. "What makes you say that, dear?"
He tapped the paper vigorously.
"That League of Nations thing. Now he says he's going to Europe and see to it that peace is insured."
Geraldine looked at him. "I think that's a wonderful idea," she said mildly. "After all, we were lucky this time. Laddie was too young to go. The next time, it may be different."
He snorted again. "There won't be a next time. Germany is through forever.
Besides, what can they do to us?
They're on the other side of the ocean.
We can just sit back and let them kill each other off if they want to start another war."
Geraldine shrugged her shoulders.
"You better move in closer under the umbrella, dear," she said. "You know how red you get in the sun."
Harrison Marlowe got up and moved his chair farther under the umbrella. He settled back in the chair with a sigh and buried himself in the newspaper once more.
Rina appeared suddenly in front of her mother.
"It's been an hour since I had lunch, Mother," she said. "Can I go into the water now?" "May I," Geraldine corrected automatically.
She looked at Rina.
She had grown up this summer. It was hard to believe she was only thirteen.
She was tall for her age, almost five three, only one inch shorter than Laddie, who was three years older.