There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Lucy found that her former anonymity as well as her popularity in the school was completely reversed. I would have liked to know. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. Let us be gone. ’ ‘Like your father,’ Gerald put in deliberately.
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