142 < 18 > THE HIGH PRICE OF FAME Michelle became a constant in those weeks, basking in the shame-ridden celebrity that had been created around Lucy. She rose to the fire to stoke it. Ramage controlled his expression and thought very quickly. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move!—Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it. We needn’t try and give ourselves airs. I won't dig their graves with my nails. I always fall on my feet, you know. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. She bounced onto her bottom.
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