He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. By this action, Lucy already knew what the answer was. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up.
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