‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. ” Lucy looked at Michelle’s pretty face, rendered corpselike and frozen by unconsciousness. She felt her canines growing. The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury. She had to wear cream and a brown sash and a short frock and her hair down, and Gwen cream and a brown sash and a long skirt and her hair up.
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