‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. Anna, do you not see that the Countess is sitting alone?” She rose, and flashed a quick smile upon Ennison behind her husband’s back. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. To these a heavy wooden apparatus was attached, which could be raised or lowered at pleasure by pullies. Escape was now impossible. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance.
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