To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. Her arms and feet were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness. ‘She may well try to go back. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. And always they were well satisfied. You will be my witness, Madame Joan. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. He has given orders that no one is to disturb him.
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