“You are fortunate, Mrs Forrester.” What on earth could he mean? “You still believe everything is golden, all dances and fine stitches and silk,” he said, and here he looked over my gown, which made me quite self-conscious. “But this is all just an illusion, a dream,” he went on. “You have been spared truth. Your Colonel and I, we know. Once seen, it cannot be unseen.”
