"No."
"And that, mavourneen, is as it should be."
He told her of the stage mother. Let the lie go with the castle he had built upon it. And he would begin afresh.
"Ah," said Joan, dismissing it with shining eyes, "there, Kenny, you meant only to be kind."
He wondered wearily why the lie with all its torment had not shocked her. Truth was queer.
Joan glided toward the door. He caught in her face the look of a white flame and dropped his eyes. A Botticelli look. Ah, well, it was beautiful to be young and joyous!
"I must tell Brian," she said.
"Yes," said Kenny. "Of course."
And she was gone. Kenny lay back in his chair and closed his eyes; the sound of her flying feet death in his ears.