Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. If there were any pearls, none came into the light. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip.
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