The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. “The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. ” She smiled faintly. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around.
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