At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. His light brown hair was almost crew cut short.
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