Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. It was something you were supposed to return, so she raced through all the television shows that she had watched over the years. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it.
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