It was a clear, lovely, October morning. “You are beautiful, Lucy. “Have you got to keep her now?” “To the best of my ability,” said Mr. E. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. She had just this moment past told him that Monsieur Valade came to her after the tragedy, to the convent, from where he married her and brought her to England. His mind seemed to be a remarkably full one; his knowledge of detailed reality came in just where her own mind was most weakly equipped. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved.
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