His anger rose. "Alice didn't die because she was a pagan. Do you want to know why she died? I'll tell you. She died because when you gave birth to my brother James you brought a moral degenerate into the world."
He banged his fist upon the table so that all the dishes leaped, and then he rose and stormed out of the room.
Dear Mother never forgave those cruel and unchristian words about brother James. From the scorned Mrs. Ludlow she learned all about Anne, and of her poor, darling, wayward Edward's destination after he leaves this best of all possible worlds she is morally certain. Alice was never worthy of her James, anyway.
Edward took his nephew abroad and explained him to Anne. Sometimes she believes the explanation; but when it suits her temper she pretends that the child is one of Edward's many early indiscretions.
They took a little house in Versailles with a studio attached, and there Anne's baby was born. She made a great fuss about her sufferings, and was never the same ardent young woman afterward. Her dread of having another is one of the many little crosses that Edward has to carry. He has a whole sheaf of crosses—some little and some big.
