” Cathy ruffled Lucy’s curly hair. He kissed her again. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. Once outside, she ran towards the playground, and the grotto, a miniature limestone version of the manor, which was in itself a miniature of a fortress. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. I set myself to find employment. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda.
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