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Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. He was not due from the City until about six, and so she went and played Badminton with the Widgett girls until dinner-time. I do not wish that the soldiers there will see it shine. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all.
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