"And you have hated me. The crime you hold me guilty of was committed years ago. It was when I robbed you of your son. To this day I am the leper in your path. I may be forgiven for all else, but not for allowing Challis Wrandall to become the husband of Sebastian Gooch's daughter. That is the unpardonable sin."
Mr. Wrandall was silent for a moment.
"You still are Sebastian Gooch's daughter," he said distinctly. "You can never be anything else."
She paled. "This last transaction proves it, you would say?"
"This last transaction, yes."
She looked about her with troubled, questioning eyes.
"I—I wonder if THAT can be true," she murmured, rather piteously. "Am I so different from the rest of you? Is the blood to blame?"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Carroll nervously. "Don't be silly, Sara, my child. That is not what Mr. Wrandall means."
Wrandall turned his face away.
"You loved as deeply as you hate, Sara," he said, with a curious twitching of his chin. "My son was your god. We are not insensible to that. Perhaps we have never realised until now the depth and breadth of your love for him. Love is a bitter judge of its enemies. It knows no mercy, it knows no reason. Hate may be conquered by love, but love cannot be conquered by hate. You had reason to hate my son; Instead you persisted in your love for him. We—we owe you something for that, Sara. We owe you a great deal more than I find myself able to express in words."