“To go through Dorothy’s private effects meant gaining access to her room when she or her nurses weren’t there—such a rare occurrence I could not imagine how I might accomplish it. And though there was no such impediment to any search of Michel’s room, there was my own reticence to master. The pressure of Ben’s expectation pressed heavily, and I dreamed of Peter every night now. The little sleep I managed was haunted by visions of him, eyeless and dripping wet, touching me with that chill hand. ...Don’t believe him, Evie. You must not believe him. I knew who he meant, and I knew I could not afford to be idle. But I could not bring myself to search Michel’s room. I was afraid to try. Then, three days after my meeting with Ben, I woke at three-thirty, terrified, from my dream of Peter. As always, I could not go back to sleep, but this time I did not just lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. I drew on my dressing gown and lit a candle and went to the fireplace, where I started a fire and sat in a chair before it, afraid to move beyond the nimbus of its glow, the comforting flames.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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