The vulgar directness of the question
called for a direct answer. The situation had not been gradually led
up to. It was crude. It reminded her of a bad rehearsal.

"No," she answered, wondering at the harsh simplicity of life.

"My father was a scoundrel then!" cried the lad, clenching his fists.

She shook her head. "I knew he was not free. We loved each other very
much. If he had lived, he would have made provision for us. Don't
speak against him, my son. He was your father, and a gentleman.
Indeed, he was highly connected."

An oath broke from his lips. "I don't care for myself," he exclaimed,
"but don't let Sibyl.... It is a gentleman, isn't it, who is in love
with her, or says he is? Highly connected, too, I suppose."

For a moment a hideous sense of humiliation came over the woman. Her
head drooped. She wiped her eyes with shaking hands. "Sibyl has a
mother," she murmured; "I had none."

The lad was touched. He went towards her, and stooping down, he kissed
her. "I am sorry if I have pained you by asking about my father," he
said, "but I could not help it. I must go now. Good-bye. Don't forget
that you will have only one child now to look after, and believe me
that if this man wrongs my sister, I will find out who he is, track him
down, and kill him like a dog. I swear it."

The exaggerated folly of the threat, the passionate gesture that
accompanied it, the mad melodramatic words, made life seem more vivid
to her. She was familiar with the atmosphere. She breathed more
freely, and for the first time for many months she really admired her
son. She would have liked to have continued the scene on the same
emotional scale, but he cut her short. Trunks had to be carried down
and mufflers looked for. The lodging-house drudge bustled in and out.
There was the bargaining with the cabman. The moment was lost in
vulgar details. It was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that
she waved the tattered lace handkerchief from the window, as her son
drove away. She was conscious that a great opportunity had been
wasted. She consoled herself by telling Sibyl how desolate she felt
her life would be, now that she had only one child to look after. She
remembered the phrase. It had pleased her. Of the threat she said
nothing. It was vividly and dramatically expressed. She felt that
they would all laugh at it some day.

CHAPTER 6

"I suppose you have heard the news, Basil?" said Lor