"Very well," said Lucy, with an angry gesture. "No one will help
me. I will speak to him myself." And immediately she realized
that this was what her cousin had intended all along.
"Hullo, Emerson!" called Freddy from below. "Found the lost ball?
Good man! Want any tea?" And there was an irruption from the
house on to the terrace.
"Oh, Lucy, but that is brave of you! I admire you--"
They had gathered round George, who beckoned, she felt, over the
rubbish, the sloppy thoughts, the furtive yearnings that were
beginning to cumber her soul. Her anger faded at the sight of
him. Ah! The Emersons were fine people in their way. She had to
subdue a rush in her blood before saying:
"Freddy has taken him into the dining-room. The others are going
down the garden. Come. Let us get this over quickly. Come. I want
you in the room, of course."
"Lucy, do you mind doing it?"
"How can you ask such a ridiculous question?"
"Poor Lucy--" She stretched out her hand. "I seem to bring
nothing but misfortune wherever I go.
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