275 “Yes!” She answered, feeling joy and fear well in her chest. Lucy's ears were singing. “May I tell Nigel to come and see you again? I am not here to do his love-making for him, you know. He talked about his driver's license, how he would soon inherit his older brother's BMW. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man. Take it, if I die. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. I do not wish for you to see me feed.
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