When they met, it was Xanthippe that she kissed." A servant brought the coffee and went out again.

Her father lighted a cigar and handed her the cigarettes.
"Will it shock you, Dad ?" she asked.
"Rather late in the day for you to worry yourself about that, isn't it ?" he answered with a smile.
He struck a match and held it for her.

Joan sat with her elbows on the table and smoked in silence.

She was thinking.
Why had he never "brought her up," never exacted obedience from her, never even tried to influence her?
It could not have been mere weakness.
She stole a sidelong glance at the tired, lined face with its steel-blue eyes.

She had never seen them other than calm, but they must have been able to flash.