Chapter XXMargot accepted the name without protest. She blinked those very black lashes, uncurled herself, and stood up. She continued to look at Charles.
The colour in the old green jumper and skirt of Margaret’s turned her pale blue eyes to turquoise green. Sometimes the black lashes darkened them for an instant. Her skin was amazingly fair and fine. The roses in her cheeks were the prettiest pink roses in the world.
She dimpled at Charles and inquired,
‘How did you know my name?’
‘I guessed.’
‘I don’t see how you could guess.’
‘Margaret guessed too.’
‘Did she? Margaret, how did you guess?’
‘If you want to keep your name a secret,’ said Charles, ‘you mustn’t talk about your cousin Egbert.’
‘Or your father’s collection of Lelys and Turners.’ Margaret’s tone was a little hard.
Ma
