‘Yes, but quite my own fault. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. It was dated from the House of Commons on the previous day. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. Lucy wore it every day from then on. Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. ” “You’d like to do that?” “Exactly.
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