"I'll not stir a foot."
"To help your mother, I meant."
"That's the best way of helping her."
"We must let her decide that, I think."
Leaning his forehead on the hands that held the mantelshelf, Alexander went on, heedless of all but the desire to speak his black and clustering thoughts. "She knows I hate him. She likes me less for it."
"I don't believe it. She has a wide heart, a great and simple understanding."
"But she likes him best."
"She should."
"I'm not jealous, I don't care, but I tell you I've been robbed of something all my life. I've missed something, and that man's the thief. He's my father, my father, and what has he done for me all these days?"
"No one can tell you that."