But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. ‘I did not think so. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not the extent of my devotion. They are not your children, they never were.
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