She looked around her. "Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. ’ ‘Is she now? And what would you be wanting of her, may I ask?’ ‘Because she knows something that may make this fool understand that I am the mistress of—’ She broke off. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. I had to go at a moment’s notice.
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