‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. “You no longer belong to Gianfrancesco. He tried again. ” Lucy said tenderly. Recovery impossible. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla.
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