Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. "Well, well, we'll say no more about it," replied Wood; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for consolation, Joan. "Your sympathy is being wasted. I can’t tell anyone certain things about my life. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. She was crushed with a sense of her own terrible impotency. “Martin, you realize that I’m dating someone, don’t you?” She knew his reply before he uttered it.
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