‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. When the woollen-draper was nearly worn out, the Amazon watched her opportunity, and hitting him on the arm, disabled it. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. There will be no more children in this house, not ever! And if anyone ever tries bringing children into our house again, I shall kill the lot of them.
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