’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. I was in the front row, and I fancied she smiled at me. “Yes, I remember,” she said.
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