"I'll stain it with no lies, and can you not see that I must speak? Do I talk to my mother like this? I just hold my tongue, but you're the only friend I've got, and if you'll not let me talk to you I'll just have to murder him. I've got to do something. Drunkenness, what's that? It's little enough with some men; I'm not blaming him for that. It's the black selfishness of the beast that angers me. Anger! It isn't anger; it's something hard and hot that's been growing in me since ever I can mind, when he didn't answer my questions and left my mother alone. I've seen her cry. And I've seen him blubbering over her, sorry for himself, not for her! Well, he went off two days ago. A kind of fever took him. He said he couldn't stay, and when she tried to stop him he shook her off. He said, "I'm my father's son"; he kept saying it--"I'm my father's son. He came and went like the wind." And my mother says my grandfather used to wander off when the drinking fits came over him, and no one knew where he went nor when he would come back. So now she's still more to bear. I hope _I'm_ not _my_ father's son. For two nights I don't believe she's slept--she's listening for him. I'm glad you've come. She wouldn't let me stay away from school; she said it would be better if he came back and didn't find me here; so I went. It's important for me to get that scholarship, you see, but if he's playing these tricks all this next year, well, I'll just have to practise forgetting, when I'm working." "If you learn to do that, you'll have a valuable possession. Is there anything we can do?" "I'll not stir a foot." "To help your mother, I meant." "That's the best way of helping her." "We must let her decide that, I think." Leaning his forehead on the hands that held the mantelshelf, Alexander went on, heedless of all but the desire to speak his black and clustering thoughts. "She knows I hate him. She likes me less for it." "I don't believe it. She has a wide heart, a great and simple understanding." "But she likes him best." "She should." "I'm not jealous, I don't care, but I tell you I've been robbed of something all my life. I've missed something, and that man's the thief. He's my father, my father, and what has he done for me all these days?" "No one can tell you that." "Ah, but I know. It's just nothing." His listener rose and moved to and fro in agitation.