Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. She acted as her mother had taught her to. Deep silences came between them. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. I am an old friend, and I declined to be shelved. "What of her?" cried the knight. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers.
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