‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. ” Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. And, decently as he could, McClintock was giving the man the boot. Anthony, when God Himself had found only one man strong enough for that! McClintock shook his head violently, as if to dismiss this dream he was having. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. So get up, and let's be off.
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