His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. Lucy inhaled deeply. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside.
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