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It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. 127 “But Mary Lucia, it isn’t what it looks like! She’s an old friend, there’s nothing serious going on!” Without a word, she about-faced and flew down his steps, running fast, jumping four steps at a time. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Anna lied to you, I lied to you. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft.
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