" Sheppard started to his feet. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. Then he could hear Hilary breathing beside him, and from outside the muted twittering of birds. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. I ought to have seen—” “It doesn’t matter a rap—if you’re not disposed to resent the—the way I behaved. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance.
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