F. Lucy's ears were singing. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. ‘The poor girl was thrust into a convent to become a nun. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. No one seeing you together could doubt that she is your granddaughter. “It is not, of course, a pleasant subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity. I have told you.
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