She heard them diving after her, and noted their starting eyes as they spied the opened panel. Then she shrugged. In the second, she was wretchedly poor, and assailed by temptations of which you can form no idea. ‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. Michelle and her father sat in the audience, Diane having chosen to stay home to prepare dinner. Wood. Charming girl. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. I'm heading for bed.
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