There is the key. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. “Stuffy these trees make the Avenue,” said Mr. Even were she to get an opportunity to scream, it would be some time before such a call, unprecedented though it might be, brought the nuns so much out of their absorption that they interrupted their prayer to investigate. It wailed at Lucy, chubby arms reaching towards her, pleading. You’re a lady all right and tight, and nothing anyone does can take that away from you.
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