The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. The McCloskeys had picked Lucy from a bunch of children languishing at the Illinois Christian Home for Children. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. Lucy asked Michelle if “Pfister” kept the bras and panties of misfits for their trophy value, or perhaps sold them on the black market to perverted old men.
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