You point your feet out too much when you walk, Will went on. He was busy polishing an apple on his shirtfront, and appeared not to notice Tessa glaring at him. Camille walks delicately. Like a faun in the woods. Not like a duckI do not walk like a duck.I like ducks, Jem observed diplomatically. Especially the ones in Hyde Park.
She had taken him for granted, she thought with surprise and shame, watching the flickering candlelight. She had assumed his kindness was so natural and so innate, she had never asked herself whether it cost him any effort. Any effort to stand between Will and the world, protecting each of them from the other. Any effort to accept the loss of his family with equanimity. Any effort to remain cheerful and calm in the face of his own dying.