" Lady Trafford sighed deeply. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. ” “She has chances?” he said, helping her out. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. It was the one that she had sworn she’d throw out, if only Julian had not liked it so much.
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