CHAPTER XVIII. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. It is a precaution merely. Sir John saw it, and was flattered. But a human being who is young and clean, as you are, is apt to ennoble—or explain away. G. And to wish not is useless, because you have told me from when I was a little girl. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture.
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