Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. ’ ‘I am going to England,’ Melusine stated flatly, ‘because there is no safety at the convent at Blaye. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said.
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