Perhaps it is the nod that casts the light of the moon across Miss Eyre's face; where before Elinor had been able to see little other than her wild hair, her features are now revealed to her. The woman is mulatto, though clearly of much diluted blood; for though her features are plainly Afric, her skin seems scarcely darker than Elinor's own. One rarely sees coloured people in country society, but it is not as though Elinor has never met any before; in London, her late father had connections with a businessman of some repute whose skin was far darker than this Miss Eyre's.

So whilst she is surprised, she keeps her expression as still as she can, beyond a slight lifting of her eyebrows. Poor and dependent on the generosity of their half-brother, Elinor knows what it is to be scorned for circumstances beyond one's control, and does not wish to cause Miss Eyre any discomfort.

'They are most strange,' she agrees. And then, after a faintly trembling pause, continues, 'I should ordinarily refrain from saying such to one with whom I am but newly acquainted, Miss Eyre, and I am... not normally given to such fancies, but I confess that I cannot dismiss the conviction that we are being... observed.'

She holds Caractacus a little tighter to her breast, and does not look about her. Despite the best assurances of her reason, there is something about this forest that unnerves the very heart of her. It is not that she believes in pixies or evil spirits or any such fantasy, and yet she cannot persuade herself that something is not deeply wrong.