He had seldom been more perturbed. Then I think I remarked that science was disgracefully under-endowed, and confessed I’d had to take to more profitable courses. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. To write under a pseudonym!—to be forced to disown his children! He could not write under his own name, enjoy the fruits of fame should these tales prove successful. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft.
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