understand how horrible the idea seemed to him. This news apparently struck him as the direst blow that had yet fallen. Some moments elapsed before he was able to speak, and she made no effort to hurry him. Rather, by her manner, by her poise, by her ease, she indicated an opportunity for the pause.
Your sister! With varying emphasis, he repeated her words again almost in a whisper: Your sister!
How can that be? you are asking yourself. How can her father be mine? It is very simple. My father has no control whatever over me. When I came of age I inherited money left in trust for me by my grandmother, but even before that I was free, because I married when I was sixteen. I see very little of Alice now, but I can see her when I wish to. As a matter of fact, my sons are visiting their grandfather at Southampton, and Alice is with him too. I can send for her. . . .
Send for her! Would he never be able again to think out a sentence of his own?
Yes, if you want her sent for. Certainly. Her voice was dead in quality.
Would you? . . . His manner was eager, yet almost tearful.
How tragic, she thought again, is youth. How much youth suffers unnecessarily.
Whenever you like. She spoke calmly, evenly.
He rose to this: Now!
