Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. Lucy complied, slipping the tight jeans over her white underwear. ’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body.
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