Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. ‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now.
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