It must be sent home this evening. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. Lucy sat beside him. Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. She’s hated me for no apparent reason ever since Fourth Grade. ‘They cannot help it. ‘That rascally knave sent you to become a French nun?’ Looking positively terrified, the girl nodded dumbly.
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