\" Lucy said as they ascended the steps. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. “John, don’t!” she cried. Other girls gathered around like sheep. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. Satisfied that he had solved his difficulty, he proceeded to his room.
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