’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. He lowered himself onto her and entered her slowly, an inch at a time. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. I am apparently a beast, a pig and an imbecile, too, if memory serves me. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner. Wood. The way—the way we are led on! We are taught to believe we are free in the world, to think we are queens. ‘Obsessed, that’s what you are. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. 168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years.
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