It is not at all what I expected either. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all. In Paris, in July, a raging mob had stormed the Bastille, provoking circumspect aristocrats to uproot themselves and take refuge abroad. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. . It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight.
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