She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner.
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