. ” The tired woman sat still for a moment. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks. “Home, of course,” she answered. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. She learned that they had granted her the attributes of an earth elemental goddess, and they considered her as necessary as the wolf, as if she had a role to play in the natural order.
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