Paolina forced a watery smile to her lips.
“Was that such a terrible fate?” she enquired.
“But, of course,” Thérèsa said. “The Contessa could not stay here where she had been unhappy. Oh, the Conte can be very very hard. But you are so beautiful, my Lady, you will twist him round your little finger.”
The Conte was obviously not quite what she had imagined, Paolina thought. Somehow she did not care. The only thing she wanted was to see Sir Harvey.
“Go to His Excellency,” she said, “and ask him if I can speak with him for a moment.”
As soon as Thérèsa had gone, Paolina jumped out of bed, put on a wrapper and tidied her hair in front of the mirror.
She looked pale and there were dark lines under her eyes, but she thought with satisfaction, she was still beautiful.
Surely, with her hair
