The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. ” She spoke rather quickly, because she found her father’s question the most awkward she had ever had to answer in her life. mm. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. Then he took the pulse.
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