Puck's face cleared and she smiled back at Jean, exactly as Gregory smiled, the light touching her eyes and then settling in her lips.
"I shouldn't be s'prised. I told Lady Jane that this morning." There was a pause, as if she were weighing a sudden decision. "Would you like to see Lady Jane? She's just back from the hospital."
"Indeed I should, if you're sure it won't hurt her."
"I don't believe it will, not for a few moments. I haven't put her to bed yet."
Safe with Lady Jane in her arms, the manner of hostess dropped away. Puck came close to Jean's chair, and turning up the filmy clothes in which Lady Jane was arrayed, pointed to a leg glaringly new and unscratched.
"It was a bad accident and she broke it, but my daddy said it might have killed her. She was lucky, wasn't she? My daddy took her to the hospital and they—they—imput—"
"Amputated?"
"Yes. They—ampt—they did that to the old leg and gave her a new one. But I don't let anybody touch her, except me and daddy. He loves Lady Jane too."
"I'm sure he does." Jean smoothed Lady Jane's lacy skirts with trembling fingers.
"Do you like her?" Puck asked it abruptly after a brief pause in which Jean fought to hold fast her belief that she had come to kill her own fear once and for all.