“It may be absurd for a man of forty to talk about his mother, but if I had had your advantages in that respect, I might have been a better man.”
Then Sylvester's jealousy vanished, and he remembered the wrong that had been done.
“My father did all that a human soul could do to make atonement,” said he.
“And mine did everything in his power to prevent it. Will you sit down?”
Roderick motioned Sylvester to a chair, and sat down near him.
“I don't pretend to love my father. I never had reason to. I am a bad lot, I know, but compared to him, I am the incarnation of virtue. When I forged the cheque, I was given to understand for the first time that my father had some mysterious hold over Mr. Lanyon. But, as God hears me, I never dreamed until last night of the true nature of the case. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” said Sylvester; “I believe you.”
“Thank you,” returned Roderick; “now I know where I am.”
He lit a cigarette, having offered his case to Sylvester, who declined.
“It is now in my power,” said he, after enjoying the first two fragrant whiffs, “to restore the money I stole from you. You observe I have the grace to use the naked expression. Will you accept it?”