“You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. I shall never come back. They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. Perhaps that was why Sheila began to observe Lucy, because both of them were poignantly aware of Lucy’s otherness. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs.
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