Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. ” “Perhaps you don’t. I tried painting and couldn’t get on. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy. It is better to face the truth. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. “I have given it up,” she answered. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account.
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