“You look nice today, Lucy. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. He was not a sailor. Jack turned away with an aching heart. See paragraph 1. She felt privileged above other women at parties, where she was on display as all the duchesses and queens looked upon her with envy as he was so clearly entranced by her in every way. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays.
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