Through all the bewildering and overwhelming thoughts that were crashing through Broussard's brain, but one thing was clear and unshakable, the deathless loyalty that a son owes to his mother.
"Of course," said Broussard, in a cool and resolute voice, "I'll stand by my mother's son, for my mother's sake.

I was always puzzled at your knowledge of my parents, but I want some actual proof of what you say.
Not for myself, you understand, but for others." "Here it is," said Lawrence, taking a small, thin gold ring from his little finger.

"When my mother married your father, I was fourteen years old.

She gave me the wedding ring my father had given her; she put it on my finger and it has never been removed since--but I will take it off to show to you." Lawrence pulled the ring off and Broussard, under the glare of the electric lamp, read the initials and the date he had seen in the family record.

Then, handing the ring back, Broussard studied Lawrence's haggard face.