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” She looked away from him. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. 9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said.
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