I thought it quite probable that it displeased you to hear from me." "I should have expressed my displeasure if I had felt it," said his father with all the pomposity that was natural to him.
"That had not occurred to me," said Michael.

"I am afraid I took your silence to mean that my letters didn't interest you." He paused a moment, and his rebellion against the whole of his father's attitude flared up.
"Besides, I had nothing particular to say," he said.

"My life is passed in the pursuit of which you entirely disapprove." He felt himself back in boyhood again with this stifling and leaden atmosphere of authority and disapproval to breathe.

He knew that Francis in his place would have done somehow differently; he could almost hear Aunt Barbara laughing at the pomposity of the situation that had suddenly erected itself monstrously in front of him.

The fact that he was Michael Comber vexed his father--there was no statement of the case so succinctly true.
Lord Ashbridge moved away towards the window, turning his back on Michael.