" "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. No one. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. “A move of any sort would certainly be fatal. It is not the woman who speaks there. Give us that—” Ann Veronica came in with a certain disregard of Miss Miniver. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise.
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