''I might be taught it, miss. I am that willing. I''m sure I could learn, in half a wink—''
But she was shaking her head, and the look on her face was something.
''Be taught?'' she said, coming close and gently taking back the book. ''Oh, no! No, no, I shouldn''t allow it. Not read! Ah, Susan, were you to live in this house, as the niece of my uncle, you should know what that meant. You should know, indeed!''
She smiled. And while she still held my gaze, still smiling, there came the slow and heavy tolling of the great house-bell, eight times; and then her smile fell.
''Now,'' she said, turning away, ''I must go to Mr Lilly; and when the clock strikes one I shall be free again.''
She said that—sounding, I thought, just like a girl in a story. Aren''t there stories, with girls with magic uncles—wizards, beasts, and whatnots? She said,
''Come to me, Susan, at my uncle''s chamber, at one.''
''I will, miss,'' I said.
She was looking about her, now, in a distracted kind of way. There was a glass above the fire and she went to it, and put her gloved hands to her face, and then to her collar. I watched her lean. Her short gown lifted at the back and showed her calves.