‘Yes, tell us everything at once,’ instructed Lucilla, pushing him towards the sofa she had vacated, and obliging him to sit beside her. I love some one else. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. There was no answer. But I know very well that that word will never be spoken. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it.
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