No doubt she was wondering what he had done in Charvill’s house and what he intended now. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt.
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