Phoebe starts to sing. It's an old folk song […]. But then she falters. 'Not tonight,' she says. 'We need something more cheerful.' She launches into one of London's most popular music-hall songs. 'Half a jar of tuppeny grog, over zee and under...'
Phoebe has a high, pure voice. […] Phoebe smiles as she sings the melody back and forth to herself, playing all the parts. The maid is staring at her from across the room. She narrows her ochre eyes and curls her lip, baring a glistening tooth.
