Barres rose and walked away slowly beside Dulcie. They stood still when out of earshot. She said:
“I have a few of my mother’s letters.... She knew a young man whose name was Murtagh Skeel.... He was her dear friend. But only in secret. Because I think her father and mother disliked him.... It would seem so from her letters and his.... And she was—in love with him.... And he with mother.... Then—I don’t know.... But she came to America with father. That is all I know. Do you believe he can be the same man?”
“Murtagh Skeel,” repeated Barres. “It’s an unusual name. Possibly he is the same man whom your mother knew. I should say he might have been about your mother’s age, Dulcie. He is a romantic figure now—one of those dreamy, graceful, impractical patriots—an enthusiast with one idea and that an impossible one!—the freedom of Ireland wrenched by force from the traditional tyrant, England.”
He thought a moment, then:
“Whatever the fault, and wherever lies the blame for Ireland’s unrest to-day, this is no time to start rebellion. Who strikes at England now strikes at all Freedom in the world. Who conspires against England to-day conspires with barbarism against civilisation.
“My outspoken sympathy of yesterday must remain unspoken to-day. And if it be insisted on, then it will surely change and become hostility. No, Dulcie; the line of cleavage is clean: it is Light against Darkness, Right against Might, Truth against Falsehood, and Christ against Baal!
“This man, Murtagh Skeel, is a dreamer, a monomaniac, and a dangerous fanatic, for all his winning and cultivated personality and the personal purity of his character.... It is an odd coincidence if he was once your mother’s friend—and her suitor, too.”
Dulcie stood before him, her head a trifle lowered, listening to what he said. When he ended, she looked up at him, then across the studio where Westmore had taken her place on the sofa beside Thessalie. They both seemed to be absorbed in a conversation which interested them immensely.
Dulcie hesitated, then ventured to take possession of Barres’ arm: