She did not resist him, she could not. He picked her up outside her last period Ceramics class. "I'll fetch it. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. I’m afraid I’m a terribly clumsy fellow. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. I had no idea. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off.
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