‘You will keep yourself utterly quiet,’ he instructed, a growl in her ear as they headed for the door. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. She found an old drunk wandering the streets. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. I won’t even ask. Yield up the babe, and I pledge my word you shall remain unmolested. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water.
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