Either this thing is true or it is false.

In either case, I must know the facts.

The papers?
No truth in _those_! The finding of the courts?
today, they are a by-word and a mockery! All I can trust is the evidence of my own senses; what I hear, and feel, and see.

So then--" "Then ?" gulped the Billionaire, holding the back of his chair in a trembling grasp.
"Just this, father.

I'm going to Rochester, myself, to investigate this thing, to see this man, to hear his side of the story, to know--" "Do that," cried Flint in a terrible voice, "and you never enter these doors again! From the minute you leave Idle Hour on that fool's errand, my daughter is dead to me, forever!" Swept clean off his feet by rage, as well as by the deadly fear of what might happen if his daughter really were to learn the truth, he had lost his head completely.
With quiet attention, the girl regarded him, then smiled inscrutably.
"So it be," she replied.