She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. ‘You make a game with me, I think.
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