. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. Everything proclaimed the mischievous propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. She was good to me for the two years I stayed with her, she had a nice apartment in Galveston. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. ‘If you’ll have the goodness, missie, to move yourself out of the way,’ he said aggrievedly, ‘and let us at him, we might have a chance of doing just that. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs.
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