His father had forced this confession, from him, he had given him no choice! "Why should I tell you that now ?" he asked, as he roughly shook off his father's hand.
"Tell me I misunderstand you!" repeated the judge, in a tone of abject entreaty.
"It's too late!" said Marshall, his voice a mere whisper between parched lips.

He tossed up his arms in a gesture that betokened his utter weariness of soul.

"My God, how I've suffered!" he said chokingly, and his eyes were wet with the sudden anguish of self-pity.
"Marshall!" The judge spoke in protest of his words.

Marshall turned abruptly from him and crossed the room.

The spirit of his fierce resentment was dying within him, for, after all, what did it signify how his father learned his secret! From the parlor there still came the strains of light music; these and Marshall's echoing tread as he strode to and fro, filled in the ghastly silence that succeeded.