“He certainly never knew of you. He’s—amazed.”
“And what’s going to happen next?”
“Legally you’re Preemby’s daughter. Nothing can alter that. All the resemblances and coincidences in the world won’t alter that.”
“And all the law in the world won’t alter the facts. And——”
She turned on Lambone with a flushed face. “Do you realize what it means to think you are the daughter of a certified lunatic? And then find you are not? All last night I was awake with that unendurable thought.”
“All night—at your age!”
“It seemed all night. Last night—I tried to imagine that something of this sort had happened. Tried—and couldn’t. Tried to bring back all those old fancies. And here it is! I might have known. I did know and wouldn’t know.
“Tell me about this real father of mine. I don’t know a thing about him. Is he a good man? Is he a bad man? Has he a wife?”
“He adored his wife. And so did I. She was one of the loveliest and cleverest young women I’ve ever known. She was strong and jolly—and the beastly influenza and pneumonia got her. In a week. It cut him to ribbons. They’d had no children. They’d had only four years together. He’s attractive to women, but I don’t think there’ll be a second Mrs. Devizes for a long time. I can’t imagine it. Any other woman! Why! All that house—it’s full of her presence.”
“Yes,” said Christina Alberta, and thought for a time.