“There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. Why don’t you just tell me what is going on with you! Why the police questioned you! Why they’re looking for your mother? I’ll understand! Just tell me and I swear to God Lucy I’ll understand. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Mr.
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