. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. “You poor little girl!” he cried. He left his companion in the midst of a glowing eulogy of Bastien Leparge, and boldly intercepted his hostess as she moved from one group to join another. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment.
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