Lucy was summarily introduced to Martin’s parents. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind.
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