The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it. . She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn.
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