He paced up and down the room, thinking.
“Shall I speak to her? It might make it easier.”
She was very near tears as she faltered:
“How generous of you! No; I shall tell her, poor dear! The simple truth will suffice. She will say nothing. Her silence will be my punishment. Nothing, nothing will bridge that.”
“You want me to go?”
“Please!”
He marched straight to the door.
“Arthur, you have forgotten the pearls. Let me say this to you. The pearls did it—and my father’s face.”
She pointed to the portrait, but it seemed to her entirely different.
“Your father’s face?”