There was a stain of wine upon her dress. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. “Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way. She noticed an odd new gleam in Michelle’s eyes, a focus she had not noticed before. To Ah Cum, who was watching her covertly, the smile was like a bit of unexpected sunshine.
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