Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf.
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