Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. Lucy marveled at the billiards table and the sauna. ‘I’m on your side. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. What CAN she put before that?” His voice began to rise.
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