“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. " "Very well. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. He dissected rather awkwardly and hurriedly, but, on the whole, effectively, and drew with an impatient directness that made up in significance what it lacked in precision.
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