She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. ‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. ‘I assure you it was mutual. She paused for a moment. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. "My friends, Mr. I can’t rest or work or settle down to anything while things are like this between you and me.
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