“Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. ‘But what in the world was she doing at Remenham House?’ ‘Your quickness is astounding, Lucy,’ Gerald told her admiringly. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. He rose deliberately to his feet and confronted them. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. “My arrival appears to be opportune,” he said stiffly. I too, Anna, have watched and read of your success with—I must confess it—some misgiving. We felt like thieves.
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