At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. “Lucy, you have to play for us after dinner, oh please. ” He stood still, looking at her. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. " "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building.
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