The Sentinels after delacroix

young as she was, she did not understand the depth of his words, or that he was quite serious and meaning them in a different way than she knew them. c'est trop mignon, though as he spoke of beauty, she laughed, the sound as elysian as her singing voice. beau! moi? savez-vous qui il est vous parlez? est-ce moi que vous aimez? for deirdre was unaware of how fair she was, that she had blossomed into a woman of such ethereal looks that it would, inevitably, pain her. she lapsed back into english as he slumped against her, and she frowned again. surely he did not know who he was talking to, in this state! it is i, deirdre stella mayfair--do you remember me, renoir? your head... you must have hit your head! the recognition came, as she sorted through what this meant and what she must do.