"You know what I am, what I write, what I advocate."
"The whole world knows that."
"Imagine, then, what I suffer daily. Oh, how strong must be the force of hereditary vice when it breaks out after such an education!"
"It should make you a little more lenient, Lady Woodroffe. Your last papers on the exceeding wickedness of man would be less severe if you looked at home."
"This is my punishment. I must bear it till I die. But"—she turned sharply on her accomplice—"he must remain where he is. There must be no scandal. I cannot face a scandal. But for that he should have gone, long ago, back to his native kennel."
"Let him remain. No one but you can turn him out."
"Doctor—Sir Richard—can I really trust you?"
"Madam, hundreds of people trust me. I am a father confessor. I know all the little family secrets. This is only one secret the more. It is interesting to me, I confess, partly because I was concerned in the business, and partly because I was curious to know what kind of man would emerge from this boy's birth, and his education, and the general conditions of his life."
"I may rely upon that promise?"
The doctor spread out his hands. "Other people do rely upon my secrecy: why not you?"