“For my sake, Frederic, calm yourself. I implore you to go to your room. Come back later, but go now.”
He was struck by the seriousness in her voice and manner. An ugly, crooked smile writhed about the corners of his mouth.
“I suppose you're trying to smooth it over so that they won't consider him a brute. Is that it?”
“Hush! Please, please! You know that my heart aches for you, mon ami. It was cruel of him, it was cowardly—yes, cowardly! Now I have said it!” She drew herself up and turned deliberately toward the little door across the room.
His eyes brightened. The crooked sneer turned into an imploring smile.
“Forgive me, Yvonne! You must see that I'm beside myself. I—I———”
“But you must be sensible. Remember he is your father. He is a strange man. There has been a great deal of bitterness in his life. He———”
“Have I been the cause of a moment's bitterness to him?” cried Frederic. “Why should he hate me? Why———”
“You are losing control of yourself again, Frederic.”
“But I can't go on the way things are now. He's getting to be worse than ever. I never have a kind word from him, seldom a word of any description. Never a kind look. Can't you understand how it goads me to———”