“So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. “Don’t lie to everyone, Lucy! You know it’s the truth!” Michelle defended herself. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. ‘You do not dare look in my clothes. There was going to be no quarter between these two.
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