"You are after that ill-gotten money, are you?
Well, as we seem to agree so badly, why not go to-night instead of to-morrow; there is a late train?
Perhaps it would be pleasanter for both of us, and then I need not send for your luggage.
Also it would save my shifting the new boy from your room." "Do you really mean that, Father ?" "I am not in the habit of saying what I do not mean.

Only please understand that if you reject my plans for your career, which have been formed after much thought, and, I may add, prayer, I wash my hands of you who are now too old to be argued with in any other way." Godfrey looked at his father and considered the iron mouth cut straight like a slit across the face, the hard, insignificant countenance and the small, cold, grey eyes.

He realised the intensity of the petty anger based, for the most part, on jealousy because he was now independent and could not be ordered about and bullied like the rest of the little boys, and knew that behind it there was not affection, but dislike.

Summing up all this in his quick mind, he became aware that father or not, he regarded this man with great aversion.

Their natures, their outlook, all about them were antagonistic, and, in fact, had been so from the beginning.