Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. O'Higgins returned to town and made a night of it, nothing very wild, nothing very desperate. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. Rebellious and resentful, Melusine decided there and then that she would do exactly that, come what may. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. Seeing John in Chemistry was the worst. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot.
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