‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. I must practise what I preach. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. She looked around her. ’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. He was there concealed, waiting her return. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. Come in! Come in, do. You’re not to go. \"Can I get your ticket?\" He asked her as she approached the vendor.
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