He saluted awkwardly. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. She glanced into his face. “Please don’t be sad. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. Unfortunately, I have little detail of the circumstances which surrounded the birth of the girl, and her subsequent removal to France. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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