She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. “I remember it very well indeed. As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. Once before—but that had been different. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. You haven't heard my side if it, Hoddy. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. She tried not to blush.
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