Niente. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Horrible details recurred to her. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion.
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