She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. 256 Lucy chose her words carefully. “Vee,” she said, “come home. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. Think of those days in Paris. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. ‘You will keep yourself utterly quiet,’ he instructed, a growl in her ear as they headed for the door. You go home and live on the G. I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. Do not believe it, Madam. ‘You are wise, Marthe.
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