“I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. She said that? To be closer to you?” “I think she is plotting something, though I cannot guess what. Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. I can’t rest or work or settle down to anything while things are like this between you and me. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. Please don’t tell anyone, mister. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait.
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