” He dabbed with his paper-weight again, and spoke in an entirely indifferent tone. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. I get along with my Mom sometimes, Lucy. ‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. He had not had time to aim the pistol. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong.
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