Part 3 For a time they walked in silence through the back streets that lead southward from the College. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's wife, still less what is she now. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. She looked around the apartment for other people. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. Shoplatch. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away.
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