Lucy kicked her side, then her wounded leg, dislodging her. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. ” Michelle stared at Lucy briefly. “I want to have no distractions. “I wonder which of us is right,” she said. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle.
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