Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. She was guided into the dock and prompted by a helpful police inspector. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand. I want you to be my lover. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. The solos were revealing, sensual and moody. It was horrible, but she must do it. ” Jane was taken aback by Lucy’s weird candor.
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