She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. They even talked about friendship. He stood outside of the car, bewildered, as she walked up to the BMW’s front bumper. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that. Drink, and no sustaining food. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own.
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