And all in armour on her bed she lies ...

Her drawings show how she thinks we see her, but it is not the predicament in which she finds herself in the course of each implied adventure, shackled to the steam engine or discharging ectoplasm in some darkened room, by which she is defined, but the quality of distance she brings to these situations, amused and just a little haughty.

This detachment causes her to appear most distinct from her sister – the unicorn might be prettier, but does not gleam so, though both are made up the same – yet, even in her more recent elegance, the twin we follow may allow herself to be weirdly exposed, to look not composed but engaging: a controlled goofiness in a moment that she chose to treat as if unobserved, as if all eyes were not upon her.

Girl as landscape, girl as costume: how she permeates, sharp faced and quizzical, still unmistakable in the demon mask.