A man’s children nowadays are not his own. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. ‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly. I’ve been waiting a long time for you. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser.
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