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Sometimes they marry well. Yes—as he would have liked. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. That is what my mother used to call me. The Iron Bar. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter. Unlocking a cupboard, he then took out some cold meat and other viands, with a flask of wine, and a bottle of brandy, and began to eat and drink voraciously. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg.
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