Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. \"So, guess who just asked me to the Junior Prom?\" Lucy's eyes widened.
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