Lucy could sense her mental resolution to nip Michelle’s burgeoning obsession with the occult in the bud. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. ‘Go and fetch her home,’ he said; ‘it isn’t what we thought! It’s just a practical joke of hers. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely.
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