Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. Manning—“one in Oxford University and one in Kensington. Before or after?” Lucy paled. If she could have held it in, perhaps the Virgin Mary would have sent her a miracle as reward for her strength. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. . 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. Go for it. The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes.
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