His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. Do you think I forget it? Didn't they help themselves to all the plate and the money —to several of my best dresses, and amongst others, to my favourite kincob gown; and I've never been able to get another like it! Marry, come up! I'd hang 'em all, if I could. I'll keep it for your sake. “But frankly, I mean to fight this through if I possibly can. I do not know how I shall get it, but I must, you understand. ” Lucy observed, watching her friend. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell.
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