Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. I must practise what I preach. Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. ‘That is why I have come to England, you understand. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part.
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