82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. She replied, “I don’t care to draw attention to myself, Michelle. ” She sat quite still looking at him. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. 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. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads. ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. It is like a second honeymoon.
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