’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. " "For shame, Mr. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw.
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