Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the foster background she had come from, and the single mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the gossips from all the corners of town. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river.
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