But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. She disengaged her hands and stood up. “When it comes there is no mistaking it. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. There’s no family uniting instinct, anyhow; it’s habit and sentiment and material convenience hold families together after adolescence. She wanted to be on with the show. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Of course, at home there would have been questions. Walpole's order to that effect—but not before. ‘You usually do,’ he said lightly. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out.
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