It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. "You must not remain here another instant," replied Thames. Late in July he finished the fourth story. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Michelle was sounding alarm bells everywhere in Lucy’s brain, but Lucy felt the pull of a 188 greater inertia, the urge to stay put so strong that to deny it was to deny the existence of gravity.
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