’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. " She departed reluctantly. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. He was a fool. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. ” He whispered to himself as her eyes bulged, arms flying furiously. And that happens through our maternity; it’s our very importance that degrades us.
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