“What do you mean?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know ...”
“Really not? But there I think you do injustice to your admirable intelligence.”
The jeering laugh sounded as he put out the light again, in darkness the derisive voice pursued:
“If you must know in so many words—well, I mean to keep you by me till the final curtain falls. As long as it lasts, yours will be an interesting life—I give my word.”
“And you call yourself my father!”
“Oh, no! No, indeed: that’s all over and done with, the farce is played out; and while I’m aware my rôle in it wasn’t heroic, I shan’t play the purblind fool in the afterpiece—pure drama—upon which the curtain is now rising. Neither need you. Oh, I’ll be frank with you, if you wish, lay all my cards on the table.”
A deliberate pause ended in a chuckle.
“I have at present precisely two uses for my precious little Sofia: She will serve excellently as insurance against further persecution on the part of her accomplished and energetic father—with whom I shall deal in my good leisure—and ... But need one be crudely explicit?”