I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. “You were talking to that fellow Ramage to-day—in the Avenue. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. She flailed against the doctor’s grip but after what seemed an eternity of kicking and flailing, amazingly, he had not seemed weakened in the slightest by her resistance. “What?” He replied. ‘The sisters here will not save you. The Leads 405 XXI.
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