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It interwove with her biological work. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. “Because I hate you!” She spat. ” “Why can’t you take me with you?” He begged. “Dear me!” he said. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. After all, why need one look down. You can pull it over on everybody else, Lucy, but not on me. The only thing they don’t fight over is the addition. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament.
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