“I am not aware that I do.”
“You have the man's horse!”
“His horse is in my stable; he is not himself at home.”
“Fled from justice! It shall not avail him!”
“It may avail you though, madam! It is sometimes prudent to let well alone. May I not suggest that a hostile attempt on your part, might lead to awkward revelations?”
“Ah, where could the seed of slander find fitter soil than the heart of a son with whom the prayer of his mother is powerless!”
To all appearance she had thoroughly regained her composure, and looked at him with a quite artistic reproach.
“The prayer of a mother that never prayed in her life!” returned John; “—of a woman that never had an anxiety but for herself!—I don't believe you are my mother. If I was born of you, there must have been some juggling with my soul in antenatal regions! I disown you!” cried John with indignation that grew as he gave it issue.
Her face turned ashy white; but whether it was from conscience or fear, or only with rage, who could tell!
She was silent for a moment. Then again recovering herself,—