‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. She drove me.
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