“Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. “The twins were left with his sister, Cris.
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