‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. ” “You do not understand me at all,” she declared. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly.
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