’ ‘No, no, go and fetch the men to the house. I will not be persecuted in this way by you. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Lucy looked about confusedly. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. It wasn’t. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. Not at all. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. “Tut, tut!” he said.
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