” Lucy hesitated. This made the eleventh. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. Sebastian physically restrained her as she hit and scratched at him, trying to touch her mother who went swiftly into her death throes. The stags and oxen and things all have to fight for us, everywhere. ’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. He leaned forward to better drink her in.
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