“He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. I do not know anything of him since I have fourteen years, and that he sent me to Blaye to be a nun. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her.
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