You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. 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 came,” Anna answered, looking her sister steadily in the face, “to hear all that you can tell me about a man named Hill. White caught her eye, and smiled benignly down the table.
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