“So what did happen last night that finally got Dad angry?” she asked. “It must’ve been pretty big.”“I really don’t want to talk about i...,” I told her. “I’m still kind of upset. Can you wait?”Bonnie spun around and stood in my way, forcing me to stop. She was staring up into my face.“It was about you. Mum did something to you. Dad’s angry because Mum upset you or hurt you or something. That would be something to make Dad angry. She didn’t hit you, did she?”I shook my head. Bonnie frowned in. After two months at my lodgings at Boscastle Street, the front sitting room had been tacitly recognised as my province, at least in the evenings and weekends. I could write letters and check accounts at the bureau-bookcase, which also held my few books and folders of press-cuttings. I could sit at my ease in the armchair with the newspaper, ever alert for the news from France, the Low Countries, Austria-Hungary, Prussia and Saxony which could affect the bank’s business. As a favoured and. More

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