Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. “You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his feet. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. ” Michelle paused awkwardly and pulled out a new Kleenex for her runny nose. 1.
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