“He stood before me up there and said that he hoped he might some day discover that he was not my son.”
“You told him then?”
“He cursed me for having driven his mother out of my house.”
“You told him?”
“He uttered the hope that she might come back from the grave to torture me for ever—to pay me back for what I had done to her.”
“Then you told him!”
“He said she must have loathed me as no man was ever loathed before. Then I told him.”
“You told him because you knew she did not loathe you!”
“Yvonne! You are laughing!”
“I laugh because after he had said all these bitter things to you, and you had paid him back by telling him that he was not your son, it was you—not he—who was sorry!”