“They are called brioche,” Marina told her dreamily. She was still thinking of Simon and his thick black hair and startlingly blue eyes as she slipped off her shoes and lay down on the bed.
*
Ellen woke Marina at half-past four.
She had slept very deeply and had dreamed about her mother. In the dream she was in Paris with her and was showing her the beautiful apricot-coloured gown she often wore and was saying that Marina should wear it.
The dream was so real, that when Marina woke up, she felt the most terrible sense of loss when she realised that her mother was no longer with her.
‘I must not cry,’ she told herself, as Ellen bustled round and tightened her stays. ‘I must not ruin this evening by dwelling on my sorrow – it would be rude to the Solanges.’
As Ellen put the black silk
