She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. " "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. But he knew. Lucy had been ignoring her, not purposefully, but noticeably. At last the panel swung back into the library. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life, Lucy, and that’s saying something.
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