yet I
mustn't write about.

"The son puzzles me--or rather he would if there were not something in
him like all the other Fays, desperate and yet attractive, appealing and
yet hostile. He looks like his sister, which means that he's handsome,
with those extraordinary eyes of the shade of the paler kinds of jade,
and a "finish" to the features quite unusual in a man. The prison shows
in his pallor, in his cropped hair, and in something furtive in the
glance which, Thor says, will probably pass as he gets used again to
freedom. I remember that Dr. Hilary once said of him that he's the stuff
out of which they make revolutionaries and anarchists. In that case I
should think he might be a valuable addition to the cause, for, as with
Rosie, there's a quality in him that wins you at the very moment when
you're most repelled. He makes you sorry for him. We're sorry for them
all. Even now, with poor Claude lying there, we've no other feeling than
that. We've had enough of retaliations and revenges. Nothing could prove
their uselessness more thoroughly than what happened here last night. If
we could let everything rest where it is, leaving the crime to be its
own punishment, God knows we would do it gladly."

Later in the day she continued: "I wish you could have seen the meeting
between Thor and that poor fellow who has just come out of jail. Thor
was superb--so gentle and kind and tender, and all with an air that
tragic sorrow has made noble. There are things I cannot tell you about
him--that Thor must tell to his father if they're ever told at all--but
this I can say even now, that if any good is to come out of all this it
will be through Thor more than any one. He doesn't see his way as yet,
but he'll find it. He'll find it by the same impulse that made him march
up to Matt Fay, putting his hand on his shoulder and looking him in the
eyes with a simple, man-to-man sympathy which no one could resist. The
very fact that Thor feels so deeply that he's been to blame--very, very
much to blame--gives intensity now to his kindness. As for Matt Fay, he
colored and stammered and shuffled, and though he tried to maintain his
bravado, it was without much success. He was still more embarrassed
when, after the old man had finished his coffee and was able to move
again, Thor ordered Sims to bring round the car and drive the two of
them home. We said nothing to them about Claude. I couldn't have borne
its being mentioned to them here--or