“Good heavens! It cannot be true! I can never believe it!” the young man muttered, a far-away look in his eyes, his face still set and white as marble.
“What is it that cannot be true? Have you made some wonderful discovery?” questioned Lady Bromley, her hand still clinging to his arm, her voice full of gentle persuasiveness.
“Yes.”
“Tell me!”
“I am almost afraid to breathe it aloud.”
“No, no! Gerald, surely not to me—your friend under all circumstances; one who will never fail you,” the lovely woman pleaded. “Is it as you surmised, some secret connected with your origin?”
“Yes, and it is wonderful! Incredible!”
“Tell me!” again commanded his friend.
The excited fellow drew in a deep breath that shook his stalwart frame from head to foot.