"How could I?—when I had no real evidence?"
She closed her eyes, as though any attempt to argue, or explain was beyond her, and he had to wait while she gathered strength again. After what seemed a long time, and in a rather stronger voice she said:
"Did you ever find out—what I had done?"
"I discovered that you had gone away with Rocca—into Italy. I followed you by motor, and got news of you as having gone over the Splugen. My car had a bad accident on the pass, and I was ten weeks in hospital at Chur. After that I lost all trace."
"I heard of the accident," she said, her eyes all the while searching out the changed details of a face which had once been familiar to her. "But Rocca wasn't with me then. I had only old Zélie—you remember?"
"The old bonne—we had at Melun?"
She made a sign of assent.—"I never lived with Rocca—till after the child was born."
"The child! What do you mean?"
The words were a cry. He hung over her, shaken and amazed.
"You never knew!"—There was a faint, ghastly note of triumph in her voice. "I wouldn't tell you—after that night we quarrelled—I concealed it. But he is your son—sure enough."