For a while he threatened her. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. It hit her just above the knee. . “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. ’ ‘I have no game. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. I am apparently a beast, a pig and an imbecile, too, if memory serves me. ‘So it is that you could not help it. I get the feeling that you are special, so alone, so beautiful that I must get to the bottom of you if it takes my whole life.
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