’ ‘She?’ scoffed Martha. Kneebone was attired in the extremity of the mode. ‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. He rested on one elbow. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. ‘She’s still bleeding. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt.
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