"Yes, about fifteen years ago."
"Doesn't look like your work."
"It isn't."
"Who did it?"
"A pupil of mine."
"Girl?"
Mac nodded, replaced the sketch on the wall and sank into his chair again.
"Only pupil I ever had. She and her mother had spent the winter in Munich—that's where I met her."
"It is signed 'Lucerne,'" I said.
"Yes, I followed her there."