The Abduction of Psyche

The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
The Broken Pitcher
The Jewel Casket
Girl! You, girl! Come in here."
Lucy turned her head, surprised. Old Mr. Crackenthorpe was beckoning to her fiercely from just inside a door.
"You want me, Mr. Crackenthorpe?"
"Don't talk so much. Come in here."
Lucy obeyed the imperative finger. Old Mr. Crackenthorpe took hold of her arm and pulled her inside the door and shut it.
"Want to show you something," he said.
oil painting
Lucy looked round her. They were in a small room evidently designed to be used as a study, but equally evidently not used as such for a very long time. There were piles of dusty papers on the desk and cobwebs festooned from the corners of the ceiling. The air smelt damp and musty.
"Do you want me to clean this room?" she asked.
Old Mr. Crackenthorpe shook his head fiercely.
"No, you don't! I keep this room locked up. Emma would like to fiddle about in here, but I don't let her. It's my room. See these stones? They're geological specimens."