He snatched up the letter and broke the seal.
"My dearest boy," it ran, "I want you home at once to consult with me.

Something has happened (forgive me, dear, for not preparing you; but the blow fell on me yesterday so suddenly)--something which makes it doubtful, and more than doubtful, that you can continue at Oxford.
And something else _they say_ has happened which I will never believe in unless I hear it from my boy's lips.

I have this comfort, at any rate, that he will never tell me a falsehood.

This is a matter which cannot be explained by letter, and cannot wait until the end of term.
Come home quickly, dear; for until you are here I can have no peace of mind." So once again Taffy travelled homewards by the night mail.
"Mother, it's a lie!" Taffy's face was hot, but he looked straight into his mother's eyes.
She too was rosy-red: being ever a shamefast woman.

And to speak of these things to her own boy-- "Thank God!" she murmured, and her fingers gripped the arms of her chair.
"It's a lie! Where is the girl ?" "She is in the workhouse, I believe.