Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. You are—horrible. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. "Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. It 163 invariably leads to trouble. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. ’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly.
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