She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. "I've done all I can to the portrait here. They found out Cris had some sort of criminal past, more child abuse stuff of course. Please don’t let any one know that. He seemed to do ten things before she could think to do one, to leap upon her and take possession. ‘Will you stop hedging? I’m hanged if I go on with this ridiculous cat and mouse game. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes.
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