" The hint was not lost upon Wood. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. I’m starving. She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. ’ Ignoring this, the major slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her to her feet. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling.
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