“I wish you had told me before,” said Gram, and his voice, low and calm as it was, cut her to the heart.
She was silent for a moment.
“I did not want to write it, Gert. I would rather tell you. When I wrote you yesterday to come and see me I meant to tell you, but I could not.”
His face turned livid.
“I see. My God, how you must have suffered, child!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, mostly for your sake, Gert. I will not ask you to forgive me.”
“I forgive you? Great heavens! Can you forgive me? I knew this day would come.”
“I suppose we both did.”
He threw himself suddenly face downwards on the ground. She bent and laid her hand on his neck.