” Capes waited patiently. 253 < 32 > LUCY GOES TO DINNER Mike and Lucy trudged over to the Vorsack’s house. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. He remembered it suddenly. ’ A sudden clatter of booted feet sounded in the hall beyond. His brows drew a little nearer together. Still, Katy Pfister is a grumpy whore who would open her legs for half the football team if given a chance. Presently McClintock came in. Lucy replied, \"My hair has a mind of its own.
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