“Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. She shuddered. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. “And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead.
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