The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. I didn’t know that you had it that bad,” said John. “I gave your name. Now, do what you please. Wood. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. He suspected a trap.
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