Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. ‘You wish a life of obedience? So be it, Mademoiselle Charvill. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. The screams of the unfortunate woman had aroused Thames from his slumbers. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose.
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