You'd rather trust him. Well, I would myself.
It's the plan I'm going on. We mustn't be too hard on him, must we?
Sympathetic steering is what he wants. Fortunately we're both men of the
world and can accept the situation with no Puritanical hypocrisies. He's
not the first young fellow who's got into the clutches of a hussy--"

It was to keep himself from striking his father down that Thor got out
of the room. For an instant he had seen red; and across the red the word
_parricide_ flashed in letters of fire. It might have been a vision. It
was frightening.

Outside it was a night of dim, spirit-like radiance. The white of the
earth and the violet of the sky were both spangled with lights. Low on
the horizon the full moon was a glorious golden disk.

The air was sweet and cold. As he struck down the avenue, of which the
snow was broken only by his own and his father's footsteps and the
wheels of Bessie's car, he bared his head to cool his forehead and the
hot masses of his hair. He breathed hard; he was aching; his distress
was like that of being roused from a weird, appalling dream. He had not
yet got control of his faculties. He scarcely knew why he had come out,
except that he couldn't stay within.

On nearing the street the buzzing of an electric car reminded him that
Claude was probably coming home. Instinctively he turned his steps away
from meeting him, tramping up the long, white, empty stretch of County
Street.

At Willoughby's Lane he turned up the hill, not for any particular
purpose, but because the tramping there would be a little harder. He
needed exertion. It eased the dull ache of confused inward pain. In the
Willoughby house there was no light except in the hall and in Bessie's
bedroom. Mother and daughter had doubtless taken refuge in the latter
spot to discuss the disastrous turn of their fortunes. Ah, well! There
would probably be nothing to keep him from going to their rescue now.

_Probably!_ He clung to the faint chance offered by the word. He didn't
know the real circumstances--yet. _Probably_ his father had been
accurate in his statements, even though wrong in what he had inferred.
_Probably_ Claude and Rosie had met--night after night--secretly--in the
woods--in the dark. _Probably!_ He stopped dead in his walk; he threw
back his head and groaned to the violet sky; he pulled with both hands
at his collar as though choking. Secretly--in the woods--in the dark! It
was awful--and yet it was