. . . Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. Still, one has to be reasonable. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. She leaves me almost without comparisons.
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