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. On that first occasion, the delay in locating the entrance to the secret passage meant that she had to wait until morning to make her search. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. “I thank you for your advice,” she said. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone.
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