” “Alive! In London!” Annabel moaned. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. “Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. Whenever she came upon the obliterated word and paused, her father would say: "Faith. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue, and go up with them.
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