" "Don't touch it, Winny!" screamed Mrs. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. All these wonderful comrades, henceforth and for ever hers. Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong. ‘What is it?’ asked Roding. Mr. John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy. The thought of beauty became an obsession. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment.
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