As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. ’ Madame Valade reseated herself, and Gerald set himself to flatter her into relaxation again. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body.
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