She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. ‘That is not your affair. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. “I may be leaving where I am in a few days, so very likely you will be no better off. I was his wife. You know the sort of thing. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. ‘So it was. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same.
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