Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. The woman shrugged her shoulders. ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say. But perhaps he was right not to tell you the truth. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. She did this to please him. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place.
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