” Lucy gestured to the rough plywood floor. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. “Now listen. Nasty, damp passages. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage. “Are you with us?” said the tired woman.
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