She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. Did he see him, this Monsieur Charvill?’ ‘I don’t rightly know, miss,’ confessed Kimble. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things. “I have to go out. ” Courtlaw was pale and dishevelled.
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