Explore "Forget-me-not" by Marjorie Bowen on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As it was one of the doctors who usually attended Madame du Boccage who visited the governess in her cell, she at once suspected him of being sent as a spy, and realised that every word she said to him would be repeated; she was used to being in a trap or a cage, watched and threatened. She lay still and silent on her prison bed, answering briefly the questions that he asked her about her health; then she demanded of him in a low voice, as she had demanded of M. de Tassy, details of the crime in the Faubourg St. Honoré.
Dr. Lappe, an old man with a fashionable practice, was still shaken by what he had seen that morning, embarrassed and shocked by the part suddenly thrust on him. But he did as he had been instructed by the implacable M. de Tassy, gave her the information she had asked for and, seated by her low, wooden bed, watched the effect on her. Nor did she try to evade his scrutiny, her hands hung at her side, there was no attempt to hide her face. A small jet of gas in an open metal case that hung above the bed cast a coarse light on that small- featured, fair face, and the tumble of fine hair on the rough pillow. Beneath the lamp was an unheeded crucifix.