\" Lucy said. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. . Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. I know why. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. She’s a snob. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. They hunted up shady nooks and went to sleep; but promptly at four they would be at the office, ready for barter. She was nearly too giddy still to answer him. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.
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