“For my part I can see no difference in any of these French girls who come over here with their demure manner and atrocious songs. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
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