“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. She rose and attacked Lucy, kicking her with the grafted leg that was too big for her body. He stopped abruptly. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression.
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