She was curious, and at the same time clearly resolved she must not hear it. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. But they been good to me, they have, sir. ’ ‘Do not say so. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners.
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