"I guessed what was coming. She was suddenly very aware of the room, the television still blaring, and the chill in the air. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. “You’re our superstar!” Turning to her foster father, she was bear hugged again, squashing the white carnations. ’ ‘We are not all of us so empty-headed, Melusine,’ pleaded Miss Froxfield.
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