"Miss Finch, if you please?" He didn't say anything more, simply gestured to the stool.Biting my lip, I took the bit between my teeth, removing my smo...k and letting it drape over the stool by my easel. Without even really thinking about it, I toed off my loafers, and dragged my socks off, too. How many nudes have you seen painted wearing penny loafers and socks, after all?Feeling like some kind of marionette, I made my way to the front of the room, stepping up on the podium. The stool came up. Keep her safe. 'Eliza,' I said again, and got myself busy. + It had once been a sort of scullery, the room below the room where I lived,so there was a fireplace with a chimney opposite the main one. No-one passingby would be able to tell, I thought, which fire was which. So I laid her downon some old cushions that I'd kept meaning to throw away, and lit a fire downthere. She was stirring, but like a woman in a fever. I watered down the soupI'd been drinking, and reheated it, and knelt beside. More

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