DECEMBER DAYS

    Obeying Dr. Clifton’s instructions, I spent ting and sleeping and reading Sreatment, gulping doory after anoto tco  t t s altered  t t no in t liberty to let ural sympatead of maintaining a constantly guarded facade.

    ‘And  teentale?“ sfully one day.

    ‘Not a o you?“

    S’s strange, isn’t it, after all sten, t t famous story of all is one t mig even exist, just tories missing and it ill sell like cakes.” And to clear s, and a neone, “So on, then?”

    on dropped by to see ed on t rils tched.

    On t up. As I pulled tains apart, my room . Outside, a brilliant, cloudless blue stretco  t. It  days t ing be to stop it flooding do once. Blinking in t someto move sluggishly in my veins.

    Before breakfast I  outdoors. Sloiously I stepped around t my  , and every at my side Sepped like a dainty g, leaving no prints. At first t, but little by little it rejuvenated me, and I rejoiced in tion. Nevertes oes, I o come back in and So follo breakfast, to read.

    I could judge ter I  t my ts turned not to treasures of Miss inter’s library, but to ory. Upstairs I retrieved my pile of paper, neglected since t it back to t t part of t ory all over again, reminding myself of its puzzles, mysteries and secrets. But tions. At t all I ed. ampered   t er  s? And, more inexplicable t,  violent vagabond of a co communicate  ted sister and capable of breaking acts of icultural destruction, developed into Miss inter, t-selling novels and, furte garden?

    I puso one side, stroked Sared into t of a story , and ill to come. I  ake to complete tory of Emmeline and Adeline, nor even o complete it.

    Despite my absorption in my notes, I couldn’t  seen Miss inter. Eacime I asked after il evening, o her for a while before supper?

    to —on table by Miss inter’s side. I opened it at t I er  sed to talk tome.

    ‘ did  niger asked. ”t you fell ill?“

    I o unity for explanation. “I already kne nig particular nig someone to see artled. t tended o frig saken by surprise .

    ‘t your fault, you kno alarm yourself. t is sometor imes before. If anyone is to blame, it is me, for not letting you kno sendency to be over-protective. I o tell you.“ Send to tell me w was you brough you?“

    ‘Emmeline ’s t.“ And after I’d told ions I didn’t knoo came ruso my lips, as t encourage o be candid in return. ” is it Emmeline rying to dig someten does it: Maurice says it’s t I kno is not truth.“

    Miss inter  and very still.

    “ted. “t’s w sold me.  er? ho is she looking for underground?”

    Miss inter uttered a murmur, and t , it instantly a memory of t launc me by Emmeline in t it?” added Miss inter. “Is t w she said?”

    I nodded.

    ‘In twin language?“

    I nodded again.

    Miss inter looked at me erest. “You are doing very . Better t. trouble is, timing of tory is getting rat of ting aaring into raig me. “I said I meant to tell you trut. And I do. But before I can tell you, somet . It is going to  it  .”

    ‘—?“

    But before I could finision, s us return to Lady Audley and , shall we?”

    I read for anot my mind  on tory, and I er’s attention oo. apped at t suppertime, I closed t it to one side, and as if terruption, as if it inuation of ter said, “If you are not too tired, his evening?”