She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. “Married already,” he said, with his mouth full. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. ” Lucy reflected. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. To win the contest meant you would be chosen to apprentice in magic as a priest under her tutelage. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off.
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