A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Sheila decided to do a little laundry one day, clothes that were in Lucy’s hamper, a dirty clothes bin that Lucy had insisted that she have for herself separate from the family one. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. He refrained from pointing out that the case would be exactly the same if she was not a lady. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. ‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid.
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