Georgefound Dooley asleep outside her door, wanting to be available to hershould she awaken frightened and confused.See,Henry, Martin said. I toldyou she might be meant for Dooley.Youmight be right, Henry conceded, but just because Dooley likesher doesnt mean she cant set her sights on Theo anyway.Georgeknocked on the girls door and bade her join the Captain forbreakfast. To Henrys dismay, this same invitation was issued toDooley, as well.Doyou think that George sits down with Theo when its just them?Henry asked.Noones family does that but yours, Martin pointed out. Icertainly appreciate that you do it, but its considered verydifferent, you know this.ButTheos like my father, Henry insisted. He came from nothingand made his own way. I think he would appreciate the work his slavedoes in a way no born gentleman ever would, and he would reward it.Regardless,George stood behind Theos chair while he ate breakfast with Dooleyand the mysterious girl. She ate as though starving, darting frequentglances at Theo as if she were expecting an outburst or a blow.Therewas a description of the girlher glossy dark hair, her ice-blueeyes, her lissome formthat was of no interest whatsoever to Henry.Martin did not seem interested, either, and read through it in amonotone rush.Followingthe meal, the dishes cleared away, the girl spoke at last. I musttell you, Captain, I have remembered something of myself. Thevoice that Martin used for her was higher than his own and feminine,but flinty and practical rather than soft and simpering. I like tothink I am an honest woman, Captain, but I cant help feeling Ivedeceived you, though I was unaware Id done so last night.Whatis it youve remembered, miss? Theo asked. Dont be shy.Anything you tell us may be of use.Ihave remembered my name and my origins. Martin made a dramaticpause here, then continued. My name is Jeanette. JeannetteDeSade.Henryhad been half-expecting this, some connection to the fiend, but hewas impressed by Martins reading nonetheless.Jeanettetold a sorry tale. She was the child of DeSade and a dipsomaniacalmother with whom DeSade had had some sort of transitory, sordidunion. DeSade had not abandoned mother and child, but had providedfor them monetarily, though without offering any of the guidance of atrue father. Her mother was abusive and volatile, a most un-nurturingcreature, and young Jeanette often had to fend for herself.DeSadehad approached her a year ago, just before her fifteenth birthday,and suggested that she might come to live with him. She had beengrateful, believing her situation would improve under her fatherscare. However, soon after she came to live with him, she began tofear for her health and sanity. DeSade did not view her as adaughter, but as a combined experimental subject and plaything. Shewas frequently drugged, pinched and prodded, taunted and threatened.She was often left in the suspect care of unscrupulous people likethe late Dr. von Belcher, and it was only through her own wit andpluck that she had survived with her virtue intactMartinstopped reading and frowned.Henrythought he knew why Martin hesitated. It seems unlikely, doesntit?Somany things about this story are unbelievable, but for some reasonthis seems particularly so.Jeanettebroke down in tears, confessing that she hated