" The tone was neutral. I'm glad to recognise you. Lucy could see her striding down a Parisian catwalk quite easily. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. I hate what I have to do to survive. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. The momentary alarm over, he threw a piece of-wash leather over a bureau, so as to deaden the sound, and instantly broke it open with a small crowbar.
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