“It’s okay Lucy. She waited expectantly. ” “You must admit,” he declared, “that to us—who had seen you—the thought of your trying anything else was amazing. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard.
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