238 < 30 > IN BED John drove her home after school nearly every day. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. He was wary of her, which meant that perhaps they had found one or many of the bodies that she thought she had hidden so well. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true. ” She distantly remembered moments in childhood spent in phobic trance, when her father had told her God was punishing sinners in Hell. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I guessed as soon as you said this was your house. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. "Is there no charity? Isn't it understood?" "Of course it is! In the present instance I can offer it and you can't, or shouldn't.
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