The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. But I said I wouldn't drive a hard bargain with you, and I won't. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father.
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