“I prefer the reason you gave earlier,” she told her. “And that’s what I told the man it was for, punition corporelle. You will find many in France. It is accepted to punish the wife for forgetting her position in life. You mind Mademoiselle because that bugger don’t half bite.”
“Before I go would Mademoiselle be kind enough to get me a drink of water?”
“Go through to the bathroom, I’m sure you know the way. There’s a clean glass by the sink.”
Snow flicked against the window, first a few flakes followed by swirls of wind driven flurries. They were aware as they stood arms about each other, Camille thanking them and closing the door.
‘That bugger don’t half bite,’ ricocheted about her mind, over and over, an anticipation ballooning in her imagination. Cord laid to one side she unwound t
