Such women
were all opinions; there was no softness, no feeling, no
delicacy about them. Skeletons with no flesh! As for
Lucy, she had no fear. If even the child had loved
George, she would have cast out every thought of him
on his wedding day, as a Christian girl should do!
She passed Lucy at that moment. She was leaning against
one of the huge stone lions which crouch in front of the
church, listening to Mr. Perry. If ever a pure soul
looked into the world it was through those limpid eyes!
The Platz was nearly empty. One or two men in blouses
clattered across the cobblestones and going into the dark
church dropped on their knees. The wind was high, and
now and then swept heavy clouds low across the sunlight
space overhead.
Lucy, as Jean had guessed, knew why the man beside her
had crossed the Atlantic, and she had decided last night
to end the matter at once. The tears had stood in her
eyes for pity at the thought of the pain she must give
him. Yet she had put on her new close-fitting coat and
a becoming fur cap, and pulled out the loose hair which
she knew at this moment was blowing about her pink cheeks
in curly wisps in a way that was perfectly maddening.
Clara, seeing the mischief in her eyes as she listened
shyly to Perry, went on satisfied. There was no
abyss of black loss in that girl's life!
Lucy just now was concerned only for Perry. How the poor
man loved her! Why not marry him after all, and put him
out of his pain? She was twenty-four.
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