“Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump. “Look here! Aren’t you going a little too far? This—this is degradation—making a fuss with sleeves. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. It was a sovereign easily earned.
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