His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. Lucy did her best to avoid talking about it, but the subject was beguiling, as it almost always brought news about him from the grapevine within which Michelle was intravenously entwined.
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