Don't ... don't look like that.... Oh, you're ill; do sit down; it's
so stupid to stand about."

Peter said, his own hands hanging at his sides, "Do you mind going away,
both of you. I don't think I want to talk to either of you to-day.... I
suppose you've brought money to give me too, Lucy, have you?"

Lucy coloured faintly over her small pale face.

"I won't give you anything you don't like, Peter. But I may give a
present to Thomas, mayn't I?"

"No," said Peter, without interest or emotion.

So they stood in silence for a moment, facing each other, Lucy
full-handed and impotent before Peter whose empty hands hung closed and
unreceiving; Lucy and Peter, who had once been used to go shares and to
give and take like two children, and who could give and take no more; and
in the silence something oddly vibrated, so that Lord Evelyn, the
onlooker, abruptly moved and spoke.

"Come home, Lucy. He's told us he'll have none of us."

Lucy still stood pleading, like a child; then, at Lord Evelyn's touch
on her arm, she suddenly began to cry, again like a child, helpless and
conquered.

At her tears Peter turned away sharply, and walked to the window.

"Please go," he said. "Please go."