’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. “If they matter to you, they matter. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly. “I wish I could make every woman, every girl, see this as clearly as I see it—just what the Vote means to us. Your maid has twenty minutes to pack your dressing case for one night, and you have the same time to change into a travelling dress. I quickly ingratiated myself to Gianfrancesco, playing on his insecurities, drawing from his need for more and more power.
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