I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. And then: “Of course! Always.
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