\"Good morning, Lucy\". 9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. Cathy and Shari toiled over boiling pots of potatoes, candied sweet potatoes with orange rind, corn casserole, and almond green beans. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. “You are certain of this. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. Think how free that leaves me to follow things up! I must take you everywhere. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. “Married already,” he said, with his mouth full. " "But that's the point—I don't know. He tried this sentence with expletives. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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