She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. There was the motor accident, too. “Where are we going?” Lucy asked desperately as Michelle began to twitch with greater frequency. 225 “Sebastianus. They've heard quite enough for my purpose," he muttered, as his orders were obeyed, and the domestics excluded.
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