She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. He was beginning to think about her inordinately. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. ‘Well?’ she said. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not.
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