Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. I’ve thought that out, and you must make up your mind to it.
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