Ray did not pace, he just stood. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. ‘You do not dare look in my clothes. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained.
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