‘Go and fetch her home,’ he said; ‘it isn’t what we thought! It’s just a practical joke of hers. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. I made her my unwilling confederate. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. Life waits for us. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. For all that, it is folly. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind.
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