“My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. ” “Yes. But the vicomte has said that his sister may remain, but that the daughter must go. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. " Some order. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. Still, I'm glad she didn't accept my invitation to join us.
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