Belle’s tower was shadow-stippled in sunlight. Fay sat there and shivered. It was spring and the bright sunlight was not yet warming.
On reaching the tower, Fay had become nervous. Whatever Belle had wanted to warn her of was obviously serious. It seemed much more important now that she was here than it had seemed at home, in reality. So she sat on her uncomfortable cushion and shivered, watching the patterns in the sunlight and waiting for Belle to appear.
There was no reason for Belle to appear, as Belle did not know of Fay’s arrival, but the headaches and feebleness and general miseries Fay had been suffering had somehow transformed her personality. She had been shy in the past, and often had wished to distance herself from people, but each time it had happened, it had been an active
