Anne looked up at Mrs. Blacke shortly when the woman put a hand on hers, but she looked down again and frowned. She pressed her lips together as she thought of how to answer. It was all so confusing. "She won't talk to me the way she used to. She says she's happy, and she lives in such great comfort now and she's fortunate, but she's only sayin' that to protect me. Sometimes she's honest, and she says she'll die. She's..." She began to cry again, for the image of her sister being reduced to no more that a shell came before her mind's eye once again. But it was hard to explain. "She's nowt like what she used to be. I can see she doesn't like him and 'e doesn't like 'er! I don't think 'e's treatin' 'er right. 'e took 'er shell, so she can't listen to t' sea anymore!"