“How?” I asked incredulous.
“Leander is lame,” he answered.
“I am so sorry!”
“I am so angry!”
“Is it possible I understand you?”
“Quite. She did it.”
“How do you know?”
“I can no more prove it than I can doubt it. I cannot inquire into my mother's proceedings. I leave that sort of thing to her. Let her spy on me as she will, I am not going to spy on her.”
“Of course not! But if you have no proof, how can you state the thing as a fact?”
“I have what is proof enough for saying it to my own soul.”