Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. It was explosive and gratifying. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. It was the expression of Miss Klegg’s face that put the idea into Ann Veronica’s head of showing Manning at the College one day, an idea which she didn’t for some reason or other carry out for a fortnight. Their very furniture had mysteriously a high-browed quality, and Mr. E. ‘You have rifled his papers.
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