” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug. Do not oppose it, and I will serve you. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. She told him the story of her parents, her marriage to Iovelli, the loss of her baby, the kidnapping after the miscarriage. Give me your staff. Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an extraordinary fascination. It's too hard.
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