“No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ” An awkward moment of silence followed. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. "You are my prisoner, Jack. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. In the discussion there was the oddest mixture of things that were personal and petty with an idealist devotion that was fine beyond dispute. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study.
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