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. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. ‘That’s just it. "I am coming to the point, Joan. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete.
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