“I will do what – you tell me,” she said. “I want to get – well.”
Even as she spoke, she wondered if that was really true.
If she was well, would there not be problems to face? And one problem was greater than all the others.
She did not even have to express it to herself, she just knew that the thought of him, large, frightening and angry was there, however much she might try to escape from it.
Nattie brought her a fresh nightgown, an elegant creation of soft lawn trimmed with lace, and brushed her hair.
Before she did so, she rubbed into it a lotion that she had said the herb-woman had given her.
What is it?” Lalitha asked.
“Cinquefoil or as we used to call it as children, ‘five-fingered grass’,” Nattie replied. “It is the herb of Jupiter,”
“Does it really make the hair grow?” La
