"I express myself badly," he murmured.
Mrs.Wayne rose to her feet.
"The trouble isn't with your expression," she said.
"You mean that what I am trying to express is wrong ?" "It seems so to me." "What is wrong about it ?" She seemed to think over the possibilities for an instant, and then she shook her head.
"I don't think I could make you understand," she answered.

She said it very gently, but it was cruel, and he turned white under the pain, suffering all the more that she was so entirely without malice.

She turned to her son.

"I'm going, Pete.

Don't you think you might as well come, too ?" Mathilde sprang up and caught Mrs.Wayne's hand.
"Oh, don't go!" she cried.