‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. He did not like it. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. She saw how overworked he was. Chapter VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS “Anna!” Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. ‘Certainly I am not a nun.
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