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Rh Binet I was unfortunate. I wronged you through inadvertence. I had no knowledge of the relations between you."

André-Louis interrupted him sharply at last with a question: "Would it have made a difference if you had?"

"No," he was answered frankly. "I have the faults of my kind. I cannot pretend that any such scruple as you suggest would have weighed with me.  But can you—if you are capable of any detached judgment—blame me very much for that?"

"All things considered, monsieur, I am rapidly being forced to the conclusion that it is impossible to blame any man for anything in this world; that we are all of us the sport of destiny. Consider, monsieur, this gathering—this family gathering—here to-night, whilst out there... O my God, let us make an end!  Let us go our ways and write 'finis' to this horrible chapter of our lives."

M. de La Tour considered him gravely, sadly, in silence for a moment.

"Perhaps it is best," he said, at length, in a small voice. He turned to Mme. de Plougastel. "If a wrong I have to admit in my life, a wrong that I must bitterly regret, it is the wrong that I have done to you, my dear..."

"Not now, Gervais! Not now!" she faltered, interrupting him.

"Now—for the first and the last time. I am going.  It is not likely that we shall ever meet again—that I shall ever see any of you again—you who should have been the nearest and dearest to me.  We are all, he says, the sport of destiny.  Ah, but not quite. Destiny is an intelligent force, moving with purpose.  In life we pay for the evil that in life we do.  That is the lesson that I have learnt to-night.  By an act of betrayal I begot unknown to me a son who, whilst as ignorant as myself of our relationship, has come to be the evil genius of my life, to cross and thwart me, and finally to help to pull me down in ruin.  It is just—poetically just.  My full and resigned acceptance of that fact is the only atonement I can offer you."