She was silent.
"That is not to be expected, of course," he said simply. "I think he would if he could. But such matters are not to be forced."
She lifted her face and the poor lifeless eyes seemed to be straining to see him. "I am just beginning to know my son. Ah! if I could see you—only once! I would ask nothing more."
Her hands reached toward his face. But he caught them and held them gently.
"Why do you never let me touch your face?"
He mustered a laugh. "I'm afraid you would be disappointed. You know, your hands have seen David, and—"
"Ah!" she breathed. "Always your David! Jonathan—" She paused sharply.
"Yes?"
"Jonathan, there is a Mrs. David Quentin, is there not?"
"Yes."