Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. So she built a shrine. Joan told me it was hung somewhere in the house, only I couldn’t remember where after all this time. David left this afternoon. Marriage was a taboo subject between them. How many nuns were there in England who might have occasion to spy on Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom? The presence of the French refugees took on greater significance. Ennison with my sister last night. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun. The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth.
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