” “Why? What did Missy ever do to piss her off? What did I do?” Lucy asked, growing defensive. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. Sometimes at sea a skipper will order his men to trim, batten down the hatches, and clear the deck of all litter. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author.
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