She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. ‘To what do you go, mademoiselle? The life of a nun in a convent, in a country where nuns are unwelcome. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. Wood in a sharp tone. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can.
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