«Lucy, don't just walk past me like I'm not standing here! Come in here . .. I want to talk to you!» Kate Barrett had changed into a dress and stockings; she was always an early riser, and this morning it would just be a bit earlier than usual. She had never really intended to go back to sleep anyway, but she needed some excuse to get away from those adolescent police officers. Another minute of the way they were ogling Lucy and she'd have lost her cool completely!

«Sorry, Mother,» the younger woman said politely, her lips pressed together in what passed as a smile. «I didn't see you. What do you want? I have classes in just over three hours.»

«Never mind your classes. What's the idea of parading around this house like some kind of … some kind of whore!» Her teeth clenched as she spat out the word; it left her lips like some bit of bad food.

«Parading where? I've just been walking around my house. Oh, excuse me, your house. I wasn't aware that doing so made me some kind of fallen woman.» Lucy stood barely an inch shorter than her mother, and she showed no signs of backing down. Arguing like this had become something of a nightly ritual since John Barrett's death, and both women had plenty of practice by now.

«You know damn well what I mean! You and that see-thru outfit with those pimply-faced cops peering at your bosom. Honestly, what do you take me for? I'm not blind!»

Lucy laughed weakly. «I'll tell you what I take you for … if anybody's the whore, it's you! Those men were nearly thirty, young enough for me maybe, but not old enough for you! I think you're just jealous because I got all the attention! That's what's eating you, you're jealous! Why don't you call up your friend with the lavender cologne? He might pay some attention to you!»

«Lucy Barrett, I won't listen to that kind of talk! Maybe I was a little hasty, but you've got no right to talk that way about Mr. Marlowe. He's a good friend of the family and he's been a real help these last few months!»