Chapter Twenty-ThreeMiss Shaw was still sitting exactly as Nadine had left her, the large, slow tears rolling over her pink cheeks and making a damp path on the fine embroidered shawl she wore.
Etta came to her, kissed her, patted the trembling hands, and spoke soothingly, whilst Nadine and Lazare stood just inside the door and watched, Nadine’s foot tapping impatiently, Lazare quiet and controlled.
“Aunt Emma,” said Etta, “dear Aunt Emma, do tell me, did you get out of bed just now? Did you, dear?”
“No, no, oh, dear me, no,” sobbed Miss Shaw. “I don’t know, my dear, I don’t know.”
“Now, Aunt Emma, don’t be afraid. There’s no harm if you did get out. Just tell me, did you open your cap drawer and take my—my card case out of it? It was red—a flat case, about so big. Did you take it out
