A dissipated, loose-living man. “For one thing I am going to marry David Courtlaw. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. The class laughed, a few putting their hands to their foreheads in a military salute to mock her. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form.
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