Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. ” She found it difficult to begin thinking, and indeed she was anything but clear what it was she had to think about. Where was the expected message from this captain, who had promised to send her word at the instant Gerald returned to town. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. Let me run you for six months. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd.
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