It feels like it. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. She disengaged her hands and stood up. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. She made herself a private declaration of liberty. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. This is not what I want. According to Wu, the young man had not opened his eyes once during the afternoon. As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning in the study; so she stopped at the door. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously.
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