"What's the use, child? You must learn to understand that father's gone out of my life. He hasn't gone out of yours. He's part of yours, and I'm glad you love him, because there's only you to do that now. But grandmother's quite right to ask you not to mention father any more here."
"Why?" asked Auna. "Father doesn't tell me not to talk about you. He loves me to do it."
"Anyway you'll do what you're told to do here, I know."
"Very well then—this is the last—last time I'll name him. And if he ever slips out again, it will be an accident, mother. But—the last time, mind—but, don't you think just once—just once, for a little moment, you could see him? You've got such a lot of time on your hands now and you might take a walk and just——"
"Did he ask you to ask me, Auna?"
"Not exactly asked me. He said it would be a great blessing and a sign he was forgiven if you could let him speak to you but once. And I said so it would; and I told him that first time I got a chance, behind grandmother's back, I'd ask you. And oh, mother, why not?"
"For countless reasons, Auna. You'll tell him I've forgiven him. We've long passed the forgiving stage here. Everybody has forgiven father. And what more is there?"
"There's father."
"I mustn't do it. I don't want to do it, Auna. You can't understand yet, but you will when you're older. He will understand."
"You don't want to see father?"