Ice had begun to form in the shallows. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. Perhaps that was why Sheila began to observe Lucy, because both of them were poignantly aware of Lucy’s otherness. Earles said, rubbing his hands together, “by post. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her.
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