Lucy slept in the same room as Shari, only ten feet away. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. But send me word.
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