Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. She gloried in it: he needed her. The manservant shall bring your trunks in and pay the fare too, if you like. “I can get you,” Mr. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. A creeping numbness invaded her. ‘Why do you stand there? Take him up, and bring him out at once.
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