"I am twenty," said the girl. “See you at school tomorrow. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. A brief calm succeeded. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. The door opened. Finally she fell into reflection. “In the event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the inquest. ” He dropped his eye-glass with a clatter.
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