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Fee
laughed
.
It
came
out
as
a
snort
,
but
it
was
a
genuine
laugh
.
Grown
pallid
with
age
and
encroaching
cataracts
,
her
eyes
rested
on
Meggie
's
startled
face
,
grim
and
ironic
.
"
Do
you
take
me
for
a
fool
,
Meggie
?
I
do
n't
mean
Luke
O'Neill
.
I
mean
Dane
is
the
living
image
of
Ralph
de
Bricassart
.
"
Lead
.
Her
foot
was
made
of
lead
.
It
dropped
to
the
Spanish
tiles
,
her
leaden
body
sagged
,
the
lead
heart
within
her
breast
struggled
against
its
vast
weight
to
beat
.
Beat
,
damn
you
,
beat
!
You
've
got
to
go
on
beating
for
my
son
!
"
Why
,
Mum
!
"
Her
voice
was
leaden
,
too
.
"
Why
,
Mum
,
what
an
extraordinary
thing
to
say
!
Father
Ralph
de
Bricassart
?
"
"
How
many
people
of
that
name
do
you
know
?
Luke
O'Neil
never
bred
that
boy
;
he
's
Ralph
de
Bricassart
's
son
.
I
knew
it
the
minute
I
took
him
out
of
you
at
his
birth
.
"
"
Then
--
why
have
n't
you
said
something
?
Why
wait
until
he
's
seven
years
old
to
make
such
an
insane
and
unfounded
accusation
?
"
Fee
stretched
her
legs
out
,
crossed
them
daintily
at
the
ankles
.
"
I
'm
getting
old
at
last
,
Meggie
.
And
things
do
n't
hurt
as
much
anymore
.
What
a
blessing
old
age
can
be
!
It
's
so
good
to
see
Drogheda
coming
back
,
I
feel
better
within
myself
because
of
it
.
For
the
first
time
in
years
I
feel
like
talking
.
"
"
Well
,
I
must
say
when
you
decide
to
talk
you
really
know
how
to
pick
your
subject
!
Mum
,
you
have
absolutely
no
right
to
say
such
a
thing
.
It
is
n't
true
!
"
said
Meggie
desperately
,
not
sure
if
her
mother
was
bent
on
torture
or
commiseration
.
Suddenly
Fee
's
hand
came
out
,
rested
on
Meggie
's
knee
,
and
she
was
smiling
--
not
bitterly
or
contemptuously
,
but
with
a
curious
sympathy
.
"
Do
n't
lie
to
me
,
Meggie
.
Lie
to
anyone
else
under
the
sun
,
but
do
n't
lie
to
me
.
Nothing
will
ever
convince
me
Luke
O'Neill
fathered
that
boy
.
I
'm
not
a
fool
,
I
have
eyes
.
There
's
no
Luke
in
him
,
there
never
was
because
there
could
n't
be
.
He
's
the
image
of
the
priest
.
Look
at
his
hands
,
the
way
his
hair
grows
in
a
widow
's
peak
,
the
shape
of
his
face
,
the
eyebrows
,
the
mouth
.
Even
how
he
moves
.
Ralph
de
Bricassart
,
Meggie
,
Ralph
de
Bricassart
.
"
Meggie
gave
in
,
the
enormity
of
her
relief
showing
in
the
way
she
sat
,
loosely
now
,
relaxed
.
"
The
distance
in
his
eyes
.
That
's
what
I
notice
myself
most
of
all
.
Is
it
so
obvious
?
Does
everyone
know
,
Mum
?
"
