Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. “There’s no end of things I’d like to talk over with you. ’ Gerald turned and came back to her. Lucy entered the room. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. Take your pick, Mrs. Water soaked her through in five minutes. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love.
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