The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. Pity you aren’t under my command. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. His favorite newspaper was the Times, which he began at breakfast in the morning often with manifest irritation, and carried off to finish in the train, leaving no other paper at home.
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