“I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. “Rubbish!” he answered. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment.
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