Raffles Haw had said so, and he knew that he was right.
After all his pains the thing might not please; and with money he could at all times buy pictures which would please, and which would be things of beauty.

What, then, was the object of his working?
He could see none.
He threw down his brush, and, lighting his pipe, he strolled downstairs once more.
His father was standing in front of the fire, and in no very good humour, as his red face and puckered eyes sufficed to show.
"Well, Robert," he began, "I suppose that, as usual, you have spent your morning plotting against your father ?" "What do you mean, father ?" "I mean what I say.

What is it but plotting when three folk--you and she and this Raffles Haw--whisper and arrange and have meetings without a word to me about it?
What do I know of your plans ?" "I cannot tell you secrets which are not my own, father." "But I'll have a voice in the matter, for all that.

Secrets or no secrets, you will find that Laura has a father, and that he is not a man to be set aside.

I may have had my ups and downs in trade, but I have not quite fallen so low that I am nothing in my own family.