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 shock, so you might as well get it and have it over with…. I’m old enough to know things. Iv’e learned. One thing I know is that every man should stand, and should be allowed to stand on his own feet, by himself, to be judged on his own showing. It is what a man is that matters, not what his father was nor his grandfather. Father might be a saint—son a reprobate. This Burke boy, from what I can learn, is all man…. I only hope he’s big enough to take you back…. I wouldn’t….”

“I—can’t go back…. You can’t make me go back.”

“Little idiot!… You’re going back because you have no reason for staying—not on the score of fathers, anyway. What do you know about your father?”

The question startled Lydia. What did she know about her father? He was only a vague memory to her, seen in earliest childhood, absent thenceforward, and mysterious until the day of his death…. What did she know of him?

“Nothing,” she answered faintly.

“Hum…. No…. Well, I’m going to tell you something about him. I’m going to drag out the family skeleton—just to show you that your flesh is human flesh and not made of some ethereal stuff that lifts you up close to the angels…. Your grandfather and his wife contrived to