"What took you there?"
Neil shrugged his shoulders. "It might have been accident; but I do not think it was. My own belief is that the awakening of memory drew me there, and when I got into that room all came back to me in my sleep. However, I know the truth now, so nothing else matters. Henceforth I devote myself to proving the innocence of my mother."
"You will never do that," Mr. Cass said, decisively.
"You think so because you believe her guilty."
"I believe her wrongs drove her mad, and that it was in a fit of madness she killed her husband. Yes."
"Well, I don't agree with you," Neil said. "The first thing I intend to do is to see her. Where is she?"
Cass wrote down the information on a slip of paper, and threw it across the table to the young man. "But I think you are starting on a wild-goose chase," he said. "Take my advice, and leave the matter alone. You are Neil Webster, the violinist. You have no connection with crime!"
"No, I am Gilbert Jenner, the son of a murdered man and of a woman wrongfully accused. I loved your daughter, Mr. Cass--I love her still--but I give her up. I will not see her again. To-morrow morning I leave this house for ever!"
"No," said his host, with decision. "If you intend to make an attempt to prove your mother's innocence, I have a right to help you, and to know your plans. So be it. Do your appointed work." He offered his hand. "As to Ruth----"
Neil interrupted him. "She is a dream of the past. My new life has nothing to do with love--but with revenge."