Something about the words 'ginger' and 'whore' finally clicked in Mary's head and she turned a curious look on her friend. Wouldn't that be a coincidence? "Firstly, I think you haven't had nearly enough to drink." She waved the barmaid over and directed her to pour Delia a gin.
Mary wasn't about to go telling Delia what all she didn't know. It would take weeks in any case. "Secondly, if she's pregnant, that would explain it too, wouldn't it? You know your father ain't one to go leavin' his kids out in the cold. He can't very well be rid of her until after the kid's born, can he?"
She put a hand on Delia's arm. "And no matter what he is or isn't, he's your papa. He might act as odd as he likes, but he'll remember that bit."