The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. It ought not to be much. He spoke English with astonishing facility and with a purity which often embarrassed his tourists. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. It had a tiny flaw, most bizarre. ‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’ Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. The Return 231 II. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move.
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