‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. ’ He endured the inevitable scold with patience, saluted Mrs Chalkney’s faded cheek, and went off to endure the necessary delay with what patience he could muster. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. She did not therefore reveal to him that he had guaged her with accuracy.
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