"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. “We’ve never known anyone who can play like you, Lucy. Your mind is still subtly sick. I must have something in hand. C. ‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. And he would express various artistic sensibilities and aesthetic appreciations in carefully punctuated sentences and a large, clear voice. I’m not ashamed—of the things I’m doing. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. He seemed happy with her, finding her proper and seemly.
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