” Lucy blinked from the winter sunlight and reached behind herself to yank at her hood. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. Her heart thudded. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork.
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