Why?” Robert asks.
“Because he says we are too young. He doesn’t understand.”
Although it is midday, it seems to Robert that his world has been suddenly plunged into darkness.
“Michelle?”
The word hangs in the air—dangling like the pearl on a woman’s earring in a painting by Vermeer.
“Yes?”
“I love you. And when the war is over—if it ever ends; and when I return—if I ever return; we will be old enough, and your father will no longer be able to keep us apart. Will you wait for me?”
“I will wait for you forever.”
“Because he says we are too young. He doesn’t understand.”
Although it is midday, it seems to Robert that his world has been suddenly plunged into darkness.
“Michelle?”
The word hangs in the air—dangling like the pearl on a woman’s earring in a painting by Vermeer.
“Yes?”
“I love you. And when the war is over—if it ever ends; and when I return—if I ever return; we will be old enough, and your father will no longer be able to keep us apart. Will you wait for me?”
“I will wait for you forever.”
