She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. Nigel, do you know that I have been very jealous?” He avoided the invitation of her eyes. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. “It does nothing but sit there. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes.
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