Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. “It spreads like wildfire. The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. My whole life shall be devoted to you, beloved girl. The Dawn Pearl. He even thought he could detect the voice of Jonathan, urging and directing them.
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