He can get no further than the bare statement, which is received only with varying looks of bewilderment, until mrs. voysey, discovering nothing from their faces, breaks this second silence.
mrs. voysey. I didn't hear.
hugh. [in his mother's ear.] Edward says there's no money.
trenchard. [precisely.] I think you said . . 'will be.'
booth. [in a tone of mitigated thunder.] Why will there be no money?
edward. [letting himself go.] Because every penny by right belongs to those clients whom our father spent his life in defrauding. When I say defrauding, I mean it in its worst sense . . swindling . . thieving. I have been in the swim of it, for the past year . . oh, you don't know the sink of iniquity . . and therefore I mean to collect every penny, any money that you can give me; put the firm into bankruptcy; pay back all these people what we can. I'll stand my trial . . it'll come to that with me . . and as soon as possible. [he pauses, partly for breath, and glares at them all.] Are none of you going to speak? Quite right, what is there to be said! [Then with a gentle afterthought.] I'm sorry to hurt you, mother.
The voysey family is simply buried deep by this avalanche of horror. mrs. voysey, though, who has been watching edward closely, says very calmly.
mrs. voysey. I can't hear quite all you say, but I guess what it is. You don't hurt me, Edward . . I have known of this for a long time.
edward. [with almost a cry.] Oh, mother, did he know you knew?