Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. \"What's your number?\" Michelle asked Lucy. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. Yes, of course. She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess’s side. I think not.
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