That’s the fact of the matter. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. It is not at all comme il faut. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels.
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