But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. ” Lucy’s eyes smiled and a weary closed lipped smile arose on her face. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. ” She looked around the apartment again. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. . “Eight, Cavendish Square.
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