“Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. ’ ‘Ah, but why remain penniless? After all, your grandfather Charvill—’ ‘Again with the grandfather? Mon ami, if you imagine that this grandfather will welcome a daughter of Nicholas Charvill, whom he has never forgiven that he married a Frenchwoman, then you have an imagination entirely wrong. “Believe me, I know. ” They went on for a time without another word. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock.
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