“No, Lucy, it isn’t fine and I am sorry. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual. But, Gerald, do you believe there is a secret passage indeed?’ ‘Well, we covered every inch of the house and grounds, and I swear she never left that room by way of the door. 127 “But Mary Lucia, it isn’t what it looks like! She’s an old friend, there’s nothing serious going on!” Without a word, she about-faced and flew down his steps, running fast, jumping four steps at a time. Well, I told aunt. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father.
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