With great difficulty, Wood forced a path through the ruins. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. She smiled. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup.
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