One thing was obvious, her stepmother must not see the diamond brooch. If she did, Gisela was certain that she would not permit her to keep it. And so, taking it from her handbag, she slipped it into the back of the drawer of the dressing table. Impracticable, a present that she would never be able to wear, yet it was somehow a comfort to know that she had it, a delight to think that it was her own.
The warmth of the fire made her feel sleepy and she was more exhausted than she realised by the two nights in which she had lain awake and also by the tempest of her tears.
She supported herself against the armchair and after a few moments her head dropped into the crook of her arm and she fell asleep.
She dreamed that someone was holding her in his arms. She could feel the hard strength on
