“It’s my fault. They were so good to me. Why did you go back to your old look? Don’t take it personally, Lucy, but sometimes you look like you are trying to dress ‘poor’ or something. After that consolations fled. Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. ‘I’m determined to find out all about you, mademoiselle. But I do not even care if I am absurd. In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. No, don’t let me call myself that. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters.
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