“I should not believe you, Mr Brood,” she replied flatly. “What is it that you are trying to say to me?”
He turned away abruptly.
“I will not go on with it. The subject is closed. There is nothing to tell—at present.”
She placed herself in front of him, resolute and determined.
“I insist, Mr Brood. The time has come for you to be frank. You must tell me what you meant by that remark.”
“Has your mother never told you anything concerning my past life?” he demanded.
“What has my mother to do with your past life?” she inquired, suddenly afraid.
“I refer only to what she may have heard from your father. He knew more than any of them. I confided in him to a great extent. I had to unburden myself to someone. He was my best friend. It is not improbable that he repeated certain parts of my story to your mother.”
“She has told me that you—you were not happy, Mr Brood.”
“Is that all?”