“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. " With this assurance, and at the reiterated request of Thames, the little girl reluctantly withdrew. “I’ve got—I have to tell you this to make myself clear—a streak of ardent animal in my composition. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. “What happened to your parents, Lucy? Is it all right if I ask?” Lucy looked at her with a soft gaze. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. “Glad to see you in London. . ’ ‘That wasn’t my fault. His natal burr was always in evidence when he was sentimentally affected. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it.
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