” “You could never be that,” he answered, “but you are at least more serious than usual. Lucy simply added her own good night, even though a significant part of her wanted to call Cathy mother, she refrained. So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against.
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