"Not now," said the woman.
"I do not ask you to forgive me; you cannot do that. It's not to be expected."
"But what are you going to do?" she asked.
"I do not know. I cannot tell yet. When my mind gets clear I shall understand. But I seem to be falling and falling and falling into a bottomless abyss just now."
"You don't expect me to keep quiet?"
"I expect nothing."
"You do not ask me to be merciful to you?"
"I do not ask anything. I've no right to expect anything or to ask anything. I think I will leave you now—that is, unless I can do anything for you. You do not need money, do you?"
He did not know what he was saying. His bewildered brain was expressing itself in an inconsequent sort of way. He was just a creature of impulse, and that was all.
"Money!" snarled the woman. "Money! when my son is lying in a prison cell waiting for the hangman!"