Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. “But, you see, appearances are very much against me.
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