” She looked thoughtfully into the fire. “Not at all. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. Pure romantic nonsense on her part. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs.
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