"It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. But at least it gave her more time. "I didn't expect this from you," rejoined Thames, resolutely. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. 1.
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