In Paris, in July, a raging mob had stormed the Bastille, provoking circumspect aristocrats to uproot themselves and take refuge abroad. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. Both had lived rather quietly until a scandal had opened up a can of worms for the son, allegations of child abduction, reported sightings of a white van around nearby elementary schools. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. There came to O'Higgins the discouraging knowledge that upon the heels of a wonderful chase—blindman's buff in the dark—would come a stretch of dull inaction. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. " "I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile.
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