Escape From Paris
“He nodded nervously. “There isn’t anything we can do about it, Margot,” Jules said. “You know that.”
Her heavy mottled face turned toward him and, as always, he couldn’t meet her eyes. Something in her eyes that made him quiver inside. He had never crossed her. Never. It didn’t pay to anger Margot. There had been the kitchen maid, oh it was years ago, a little Breton kitchen maid. Stupid, of course. But sassy for all of that. She had laughed at Margot, called her Old Fat Legs. He had never ...forgotten the look on Margot’s face, almost the same kind of look she had right now. Implacable. The little kitchen maid had lived in the smallest room just at the top of the twisty attic stairs. When they found her dead at the foot of those stairs early one morning, her neck broken, Margot had said calmly. “She was clumsy.” Her mouth had curved into a tiny satisfied smile. Now Margot stared at him.
“When are you taking her?”
“Just after lunch.”MoreLess
Her heavy mottled face turned toward him and, as always, he couldn’t meet her eyes. Something in her eyes that made him quiver inside. He had never crossed her. Never. It didn’t pay to anger Margot. There had been the kitchen maid, oh it was years ago, a little Breton kitchen maid. Stupid, of course. But sassy for all of that. She had laughed at Margot, called her Old Fat Legs. He had never ...forgotten the look on Margot’s face, almost the same kind of look she had right now. Implacable. The little kitchen maid had lived in the smallest room just at the top of the twisty attic stairs. When they found her dead at the foot of those stairs early one morning, her neck broken, Margot had said calmly. “She was clumsy.” Her mouth had curved into a tiny satisfied smile. Now Margot stared at him.
“When are you taking her?”
“Just after lunch.”MoreLess
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