once and it seemed she was going to turn him down again. Well, if she was an ordinary female person that was a silly sort of thing to do. With her fortune and his—you could buy the world. But suppose she was not all ordinary female person.... Her mother hadn’t been ordinary anyhow, whatever else you called her, and no one could call Grammont blood all ordinary fluid.... Old Grammont had never had any delusions about Lake. If Lake’s father hadn’t been a big man Lake would never have counted for anything at all. Suppose she did turn him down. In itself that wasn’t a thing to break her father’s heart.
What did matter was not whether she threw Lake over but what she threw him over for. If it was because he wasn’t man enough, well and good. But if it was for some other lover, some good-looking, worthless impostor, some European title or suchlike folly——!
At the thought of a lover for V.V. a sudden flood of anger poured across the old man’s mind, behind the still mask of his face. It infuriated him even to think of V.V., his little V.V., his own girl, entertaining a lover, being possibly—most shameful thought—in love! Like some ordinary silly female, sinking to kisses, to the deeds one could buy and pay for. His V.V.! The idea infuriated and disgusted him. He fought against it as a possibility. Once some woman in New York had ventured to hint something to him of
