Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. ‘Come,’ she called. " "Ah, yes; that coat. Is this a reason?’ ‘Not good enough? Now I had every hope that it would appeal to you. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ” He stared at her, trying to guess at the mystery of her thoughts.
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