’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Lucilla enthusiastically. “In Paris. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. ‘And now, monsieur le major—’ ‘I will see you to the door,’ Gerald said, looking with interest at the building that his observant groom had told him housed a small collection of nuns. . 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. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks.
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