CHAPTER EIGHT
Two days later, while my aunt was shopping, my father came home before her. I profited of the occasion to talk to him as I had never done before. At first, he seemed to be a little embarrassed when I spoke to him about his books. But ag it wag-his hobby, he then got excited and talked to me about them enthusiastically.
Forgetting that I was his daughter, he even wanted to show them to me. We went to the library, where he opened the cupboard. Had he only known that I knew his books as well as himself! Well, not all of them perhaps but quite a few anyway.
He took a book out, opened it and showed me an illustration.
"Is't it beautiful?" he asked.
"Yes, it is beautiful," I replied.
I believe that we understand each other in this respect, isn't that right, Lucy?" he asked. "
