Joey Maynard laid the small white knitted garment carefully on the table in the salon at Freudesheim.
'But surely you could still take your vows? I could look after the baby - you know how sad your father and I were that we had to stop at eleven - and Mother Superior said she would still accept you if you were truly penitent.'
Margot shook her golden curls. 'I'm sorry, Mama, but it's impossible.'
Joey sighed. 'I just don't understand. Your father and I were so proud of the way you'd grown up and left behind your difficult behaviour. Margot, what on earth possessed you?'
Margot made a sound that was half a growl, her blue eyes flashing with a light that Joey Maynard even in her most poetic moments had never imagined in a human face. When she spoke, her voice was the voice of horrors.
'My devil made me do it.'
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!