And catching hold of Thames, he quitted the deck. John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy. ” He paused with a sense of ineptitude. Very good. It was a brief solitude, however. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. You need not be afraid. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening.
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