But I could feel like a father to you.

Nothing could prevent that or interfere with it, for I would keep it as my secret in the very holy of holies of my heart, where had been for thirty years the image of a sweet little child--your mother.

My boy, when in your future life you shall have happiness and honour and power, I hope you will sometimes give a thought to the lonely old man whose later years your very existence seemed to brighten.
The thought of your mother recalled me to my duty.

I had undertaken for her a sacred task: to carry out her wishes regarding her son.

I knew how she would have acted.