Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. But the figure was evidently too intent on peering within the ballroom to pay any attention to what might be occurring outside. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. “What are we going to do?” said Capes, with his eyes on the broad distances beyond the ribbon of the river. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. Sheila decided to do a little laundry one day, clothes that were in Lucy’s hamper, a dirty clothes bin that Lucy had insisted that she have for herself separate from the family one.
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