. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. Mr. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Still, she knew instinctively that all of Sidney Carton's life had not been put upon the printed page. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art.
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