Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. ’ The gentleness in his voice nearly overset her.
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