This time she tried to kill me with a dagger. Her neck was smeared with red and remorse flooded him. I went off to round up his wife. But they found him on the veranda when they returned from McClintock's that evening. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. I'll try to think better of him in future. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music.
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