‘Parbleu,’ said Gerald. ” “You and your father?” Lucy asked. . And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. Wood started to his feet. Her thought spoke aloud. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard.
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