“Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. “I mean REALLY independent. “What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared scornfully. " "Ay, here I am," said Jack, throwing off his hat and wig, and marching towards the group, amongst whom there was a general movement of surprise at his audacity. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface.
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