"From their conversation she had every reason to suspect a close intimacy. At any rate, they went away and Basil went away. Sometime after his death, this Margie returned with a little girl."
Richard's eyes darkened. The cloud had increased in size. His father regretted the orderly way in which he had presented the facts, one after the other. He wished that he had said abruptly, "Eleanor Bent is your first cousin, and if there is anything between you it must end."
"Here she stayed, Richard."
Richard seemed still more puzzled than alarmed.
"You mean Mrs. Bent? But she is a widow, her name is Bent. What an atrocious suspicion!"
Dr. Lister raised his hand.
"Quietly, Richard! Your mother will hear!"
Richard's blazing eyes said that that made little difference.
"I know that she calls herself Mrs. Bent and her name may be Mrs. Bent. The point is that her daughter is like Basil." He quoted unconsciously from Mrs. Lister's sentences. "She walks like him, her coloring is like his, her eyes are his, and she has begun to show talent like his."
"I should need better proof than that!" declared Richard.