” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. Will you please—Not now, or I must go. I don’t think you understand. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father. “You too sing?” he asked. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. She bent down. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. Gold-handled, too. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen.
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