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‘Do not be alarmed, Jacques. “Mere sensuality. ” He said. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. ” “The school orchestra?” “Nope. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study.

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