He was handsome, of course. He’s still handsome. Now he’s handsome in a way that everyone sees.… Then it was just me. I did feel sorry for him; I guess that’s how it started. He was always talking, and no one was ever listening. I liked to listen. I liked his ideas—he was right about so many things. He still is. “How goes the Revolution, Davy?” “Don’t tease, Lucy. I don’t like teasing.” “I know. But I do.” He was sitting alone under the yew tree, so I sat down next to him. When we first started talking, I’d meet him here so that no one would see us together—so no one would see me with daft old Davy. Now I liked to meet him under the yew tree because it was almost like being alone together. “You’ve been quiet lately,” I said. “There’s nothing more to say. Nobody’s listening.” “I’m listening.” “I brought my grievances before the Coven,” he said. “They laughed at me.” “I’m sure they didn’t laugh, Davy—” “You don’t have to laugh out loud to mock someone.
