“Shore that’s easy to say—with the wrongs all on your side,” she declared, bitterly.
“Ellen Jorth, the first wrong was on your side,” retorted Jean, his voice fall. “Your father stole my father’s sweetheart—by lies, by slander, by dishonor, by makin’ terrible love to her in his absence.”
“It’s a lie,” cried Ellen, passionately.
“It is not,” he declared, solemnly.
“Jean Isbel, I say y’u lie!”
“No! I say you’ve been lied to,” he thundered.
The tremendous force of his spirit seemed to fling truth at Ellen. It weakened her.
“But—mother loved dad—best.”
“Yes, afterward. No wonder, poor woman! ... But it was the action of your father and your mother that ruined all these lives. You’ve got to know the truth, Ellen Jorth.... All the years of hate have borne their fruit. God Almighty can never save us now. Blood must be spilled. The Jorths and the Isbels can’t live on the same earth.... And you’ve got to know the truth because the worst of this hell falls on you and me.”
The hate that he spoke of alone upheld her.