I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. Old Lancashire families both.
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