“How old are you?” “Sixteen. With nobody who cares … the both of us!" He was real in this moment. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. I am going to make a fresh start. This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. The room seemed a vacuum. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Now let us forget it. A fierce struggle ensued.
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