His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. "You read it, Ruth. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. He kissed her again. ” Her words were slurred with sleep. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face.
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