These passers-by who touch us but lightly and are gone, leaving the eternal imprint! So long as she lived, Ruth would always remember that embrace. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. Lights were on and Michelle’s mother was up, occasionally pacing as Michelle and Lucy had been gone for over two hours. She refrained. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully.
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