“Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?” Anna was silent for a moment or two. “Certainly her voice is far more musical. ” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound.
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