Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. The inside was empty except for an infant, which from a distance looked utterly normal. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. Sheila plucked it out of Lucy’s hamper with some of Lucy’s panties and brassieres, figuring that she’d help out because she was doing a load of whites anyway. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. Better to remain silent.
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