Behind her, as she sets my table for supper, gawks a young Midi apprentice (a possum-faced individual). The Midian is talking about Brussels sprouts, how her mother used to prepare them. When she takes Maturina’s place and her teeth fall out, she will be ready to impart her culinary skills to someone else.
Cloux
September 14
Suddenly, Francis appeared in my studio.
He was dressed entirely in black, his suit sewn with pin stripes of diamonds and pearls. We embraced warmly. We had not seen each other for several weeks...
‘‘What has happened to you?” I asked, shocked by his appearance, for his hair had been scorched and trimmed; his forehead was livid; his cheek was scarred by burns; his chin had been gashed.
“It happened at Romorantin,” he said, laughing loudly at me. “Didn’t you hear about the accident?”
“I heard something about an accident but I didn’t know it was serious. I’ve been in Paris, with Francesco. What happened to you at the château?”
“Come, don’t take it so seriously, Mon Père. I’m all right. The scars will disappear. My hair will grow back. I came to talk with you, to get away from the roisterers at the château... I need a little peace and quiet.”