“Here goes,” he said. ” “Have you been getting enough sleep lately, Martin?” He almost tripped. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. ‘Maman?’ ‘How touching,’ said a sarcastic voice behind her in French. He did his best not to grin. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground. I get my driver's license tomorrow.
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