“Yes, yes of course,” Colonel Phillips said, covering the lower half of his face with his hand to mask his grin. He stroked his chin, obviously impressed by Lucy's improvising. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. “The impulses coursing through my dear daughter's veins,” he said sagely, “through her very being, her soul, are quite taxing, even with the weakest and mildest of spirits.” He knelt beside her chair and took her hands in his own. “Are you certain, dear child? Do you truly want to proceed?”
Then, with his back to the group, he winked and twisted his features into a ridiculous, grotesque expression. Lucy sucked in her cheeks to keep from laughing. When her father was very certain of their success in ruling the crowd, he'd play these pranks on her. She sometimes did it to him too, and they'd engage in a contest to see who could make the other laugh and find a plausible cover for the outburst.
But this was different. This time something
real
was happening, and Lucy didn't want to play gamesâshe wanted to find out exactly who it was who had contacted her.