Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. "But it wants something here. I hoped for a family like the Becks and I waded through the system until I got them, so maybe life isn’t so damn hopeless after all. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. My father was Colonel Pellissier. A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. Do not slight my warning.
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