To have spoken lightly on such a subject a few hours ago would have seemed incredible. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. I didn't think. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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