CHAPTER XXVII. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different. ” Lucy said, mentally resolving to get to the Joliet Library as soon as possible to see the records Michelle had unburied. “What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked. Ann Veronica intervened a little in the novelist discussion with a defence of Esmond and a denial that the Egoist was obscure, and when she spoke every one else stopped talking and listened. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. Lucy was silent.
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