Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. Lucy simply added her own good night, even though a significant part of her wanted to call Cathy mother, she refrained. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. “Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you this afternoon. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. ’ ‘How can I have more? You have taken my pistol. Tight.
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