Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. The image did not move. But he has never been near her—never. Girls who had envied her former position as John’s amour passed no opportunity to utter cryptic remarks as she sat in Study Hall, walked down hallways, or rinsed her hands in the bathroom. His perseverance was amply rewarded. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. . He talked very little and rather absently. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. McClintock was in a gay mood at dinner that night; but he did not see fit to give these children the true reason.
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