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. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. A new thought checked her steps and she froze. To make Ruth pay for the whole shot! To wash away his sin by crucifying her: that was precisely what he had set about. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life.
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