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Chapter 32: But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.

It is noon on a Wednesday and Aures does not have the time for this.

“They are good seats. I made sure,” her secretary, Michel, is saying in his best English as though she’s not native-level fluent in French by now.

They’ve been here six years after all.

“And they include wine and hors-d’oeuvres at the interval!” he waffles on.

She has to give him an A for effort. Most usually take her staunch lack of reaction to their courting attempts as rejection enough. Perhaps he has it in his flat little head that he knows her better or some such nonsense.

They reach her office door, which is not even closed, nevermind locked. This gets Michel his first look from her since he’d begun his rather convoluted request for her private company. The idiot has the good sense to step inside ahead of her, but he comes to an abrupt halt soon after crossing the threshold.

“Salut, Michel!”