There was exasperation in the eyes which seemed unable to tear themselves from his face.
"But most people would like to have it proved that they'd been—"
"Been born rich men's sons. That's what you were going to say, isn't it? I daresay I should have liked it, if.... But what's the use? We don't gain anything by discussing it. You want to find some one who'll pass for the lost boy. I understand that; and I understand how much it would lessen all the grief—"
She interrupted quickly. "Yes, but I wouldn't try to foist an imposter on them, not if it would take me out of hell. If I didn't believe—"
"But you don't believe now; you can't believe. What I've told you about myself must make believing impossible."
"Oh, if I hadn't believed when believing was impossible I shouldn't have the little bit of mind I've got now. Believing when it was impossible was all that kept me sane."
"But you won't go on doing it, not as far as I'm concerned?"
She rose, with dignity. "Why not? I shan't be hurting you, shall I? In a way we all believe it—even the Whitelaw family—even Miss Ansley."
He jumped up, startled. "Did she tell you so?"