. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. ‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’ he told her bitterly. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. ‘I agree with you. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper.
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