“The house, she'd explained to them many times, had spoken to her; she'd listened, and it turned out they'd understood one another very well indeed. Greenacres was an imperious old lady, a little worn, to be sure, cranky in her own way-but who wouldn't be?”

“She'd become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do.And she'd taken to it well. She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever findherself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella.”

“He hadn't spoken a word since they'd left the manor except to snap out directions, telling her which way to turn at a fork in the road, or ordering her to skirt a pothole. Even then she doubted if he would have minded much if she'd fallen into the pothole, except that it would have slowed them down.”

“She'd had her way, and had the top--the third time--informing him he was her 'own private playground'.”

“Lady Madelyne had sealed her own fate. She'd warmed his feet.”

“The event itself played over in her mind, and the role she'd taken in the police investigation, the things she'd told them - worse, the thing she hadn't - made the panic so bad sometimes that she could hardly breathe. No matter where she went at Greenacres - inside the house or out in the garden - she felt trapped by what she'd seen and done. The memories where everywhere, they were inescapable; made worse because the event that caused them was utterly inexplicable.”