Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. “No, the only person I told before tonight was my mother and father. Cast off this weakness. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. She would lure him, as he was an easily tempted child predator who could even more easily be turned into prey. " So saying, he bowed and departed. \"How's it going, Lucy?\" She turned.
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