" Thames was about to follow, when he felt a gentle grasp upon his arm. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. Wanted a clean sweep for elbowroom. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. It’s—it’s a serious prohibition. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard.
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