She was speaking English.
"Goodbye," Orville said. "I wish you luck ... you and your family," he responded in English.
"Then you'll be with us on my birthday, Lena?"
"Of course I will."
Lena tapped Orville's arm.
"Take Piccard to the bathroom," she said. "He has to vomit."
After helping him to the bathroom, Orville waited outside: so this is why we're fighting a global war: is this why the Russians are staging an all out defensive last-ditch stand?
At the front door, Valeriaud praised the great tank corps: ah, yes, the French, the British, the Americans! He opened his fly, scratched, yanked his zipper half way. Orville went into the living room.
"I attended school with his mother," Therèse said to Orville, joining him on a settee. "She's dead ... a good woman ... he's the only son ... quite spoiled, spoiled but a superb pianist."
The guest car plunged away--with a rasp of gears.