” “But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel asked. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. She had not gone by the name Lucy during those years but instead had called herself “Mary Lucia Iovelli”. “I don’t know. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. She could tell that he was furious in that instant. Maternal relations. I mean—I mean to do what I can. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. ‘I have an excellent excuse to remain comfortably ensconced in my parlour here, able to indulge in my favourite pastime. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside.
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