Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor. 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. “Is that plain?” she asked. ‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him. "What does Mr. Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp.
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