"I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him company. His attitude was as different from Gianfrancesco’s as night was from day. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. Some doting parent had taught him well.
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