She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. But whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock broke into saving laughter. “Am I dull?” she said. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. "I forgive him his disobedience.
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