"Well, my friend's words drove me back upon myself. There was nothing for me to do."
"Why?"
"The hearts were all mended—after a fashion, without my aid."
"Your mother?"
"She had died soon after I went away."
"And your—brother—he surely—"
"Oh! he had gone booming ahead like a rocket. The tide turned a bit too late for me—but it carried him to a safe harbour. In a generous and highly moral way he stood ready to repay me—but conditions had changed; I must accept certain terms."
"The—the—girl?"
"She'd married my brother. She it was who changed the conditions, you see. It had been a noble sacrifice for her to marry into such a family—so, of course, due consideration must be shown her. Would I live abroad on an ample allowance?"
Joyce flinched before the tone. Gaston stood up and flung his arms out. "No! by God, I would not live abroad. I chose my own place of hiding. He paid, though—I saw to that—he named no allowance, it was I; but he paid and paid and paid all that I thought he should. He bought me off at my price—not his. I left all in the hands of the only friend I had on earth—I never wanted to hear of the others again until I was ready to go back—and I haven't. I wanted time to think out my way. I wanted strength to go back, take my name and fortune, ask nothing of the world—but a chance to defy it. I got as far as that—" He dropped back into the chair and bowed his head.