"We take it in every week on your account," said Fanny Lowndes.
"You mean that you do," said Harry, pointedly.
She coloured afresh.
"No; it is my father who brings it home from the City."
"Then he never will again!"
For some seconds their eyes were locked.
"Mr. Ringrose, what do you mean? Your tone is so strange. Has anything happened?"
"Not to your father. He and I have quarrelled—that's all."
"When?"
"This morning."