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He got up brusquely. ’ Gerald grinned. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. She saw his eyes glaze over. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee.
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