‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. He had died before they married, and when her brother became a widower she had come to his assistance and taken over much of the care of his youngest daughter. Miss Annabel is her sister. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. I felt his heart. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance.
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