“Then what did you do?” Lucy’s eyes leveled with her. “I killed him. I don’t know. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence. Seconds went by, and the cannon fired just as Rhea descended upon Lucy. The relationship seemed to have almost as much to do with blood and body as a mortgage. Blood and bone, body and spirit, she is selfish through and through. But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night.
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