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The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. \" Lucy felt her face go hot, but at the same time raised her eyebrows, relaying a tacit acknowledgement of her own distressed appearance. "Get up, mother," cried Jack; "do not kneel to him. I don’t care! I’m glad I did.
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