“I—I think so.”
“Is that all?” he insisted.
“When I was a little girl I heard my father say to her that your life had been ruined by—well, that your marriage had turned out badly,” she confessed haltingly.
“What more did he say?”
“He said—I remember feeling terribly about it—he said you had driven your wife out of this very house.”
“Did he speak of another man?”
“Yes. Her music-master.”
“You were too young to know what that meant, eh?”
“I knew that you never saw her after—after she left this house.”
“Will you understand how horrible it all was if I say to you now that—Frederic is not my son?”