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I loved her and made love to her, and I don’t think she quite loved me back in the same way. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. What does she look like?’ ‘Black hair. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed.
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