He laughed. ‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. She seemed honestly glad to see him. “Have you no understanding of your own advanced history classes? You want to look like a brainwashed Nazi anti-Semite?” Lucy became angry, her nostrils flaring. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like.
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