He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. \"Why should they care that I want to go to college when they are so busy interviewing architects about adding on to our house, making it bigger?\" Lucy looked at her, concerned. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans.
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