He knew the truth, for the hate burned
out in him and left only an infinite sadness.
He said: "What of the man who loved me? Whom I love?"
"I have done penance for that death," answered William Drew, "and I
shall do more penance before I die. For I am only your father in name,
but he is the father in your thoughts and in your love. Is it true?"
"It is true," said Anthony.
And the other, bitterly: "In his life he was as strong as I; in his
death he is still stronger. It is his victory; his shadow falls between
us."
But Anthony answered: "Let us go together and bring his body and bury it
at the left side of--my mother."
"Lad, it is the one thing we can do together, and after that?"
A plaintive sound came to the ear of Anthony, and he looked down to see
Sally Fortune weeping at the grave of Joan. Better than both the men she
understood, perhaps. In the deep tenderness which swelled through him he
caught a sense of the drift of life through many generations of the past
and projecting into the future, men and women strong and fair and each
with a high and passionate love.
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