"Yes. He locked the door behind him. I got up from my chair and asked him how he dared? He could hardly speak." She paused for a moment, recalling it all again. "Yes, and it was THAT stuff."
"What did he say, mother?"
She had turned to leave the room.
"Your father believed that I had brought luck to the house."
"And why was it not so, then?"
She faced him quickly. He coloured.
"Pardon, mother, you misunderstood me. I meant, why did it come to nothing about the cement?"
"You did not know your father: there were too many hooks about him for him to be able to carry out anything."
"Hooks?"
"Yes! eccentricity, egotism, passion, which caught fast in everything."