What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. ‘She wants me to marry her. Dieu du ciel! Gerald was kissing her! She struggled to be free, and the arms that held her loosened, the lips leaving hers. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. ’ Lucilla frowned. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. She lived, he noted, very carelessly.
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