“Wait! We'll settle that point right now. I _did_ lose my head. Head, I say, not heart. I shan't attempt to explain--I can't, for that matter. As for Yvonne--well, she's as good as gold. She understands me far better than I understand myself. She knows that even honest men lose their heads sometimes--and she knows the difference between love and--the other thing. I can say to you now that I would sooner have cut my own throat than do more than envy you the possession of someone you do not deserve. I _have_ considered myself your son. I have no apology to make for my--we'll call it infatuation. I shall only admit that it has existed and that I have despaired. So God is my witness, I have never loved anyone but Lydia. I have given her pain, and the amazing part of it is that I can't help myself. Naturally, you can't understand what it all means. You are not a young man any longer. You cannot understand.” “Good God!” burst from Brood's lips. Then he laughed aloud--grotesquely. “Yvonne is the most wonderful thing that has ever come into my life. She has shown me that life is beautiful and rich and full of warmth. I had always thought it ugly and cold. Something inside of me awoke the instant I looked into her eyes--something that had always been there, and yet undeveloped. She spoke to me with her eyes, if you can believe such a thing possible, and I understood. I adored her the instant I saw her. I have felt sometimes that I knew her a thousand years ago. I have felt that I loved her a thousand years ago.” A calm seriousness now attended his speech, in direct contrast to the violent mood that had gone before. “I have thought of little else but her. I confess it to you. But through it all there has never been an instant in which I did not worship Lydia Desmond. I--I do not pretend to account for it. It is beyond me.” Brood waited patiently to the end. “Your mother before you had a somewhat similar affliction,” he said, still in the steady, repressed voice. “Perhaps it is a gift--a convenient gift--this ability to worship without effort.” “Better leave my mother out of it,” said Frederic sarcastically. A look of wonder leaped to his eyes. “That's the first time you've condescended to acknowledge that I ever had a mother.” “I shall soon make you regret that you were ever so blessed as to have had one.” “You've always made it easy for me to regret that I ever had a father.” Brood's smile was deadly. “If you have anything more to say to me, you had better get it over. Purge your soul of all the gall that embitters it. I grant you that privilege. Take your innings.” A spasm of pain crossed Frederic's face. “Yes, I am entitled to my innings. I'll go back to what I said downstairs. I thought I loved and honoured you last night. I would have forgiven everything if you had granted me a friendly--friendly, that's all--just a friendly word. You denied------”