“In life Armand had never been a dancer, in fact she doubted there had been a clumsier man in all of Paris, yet somehow he had found his dancing feet in the afterlife. ‘Come and join me here, Simone,’ he whispered in a voice that was not his. He looked at her with eyes that were not his either. ‘You’ll be happy here, with the others . . .’ ‘You’re not my husband, are you?’ she asked. The stranger in her arms gave her a wolf-like smile. The sound persisted, and by now Simone was wide awake, the c...hill of the dream fading away. Someone was tapping gently on the window that overlooked the porch. Simone stood up and recognised Lazarus’s smiling face on the other side of the glass. Instantly, she felt herself blush. On her way to the door she glanced at herself in the mirror. You foolish old woman, she thought. ‘Good evening, Madame Sauvelle. Perhaps this isn’t a good moment . . .’ said Lazarus. ‘Not at all. I was just . . . Actually, I was reading and fell asleep.’ ‘That means you should change books.’ ‘I suppose so.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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