I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
The accommodation is temporary but perfectly good; the sea is a pacing animal, the sky is wide with stars. Armand stands by the open window in a slick suit. He wears his tolerant face. He would rather let his army of mortal scouts pick the perfect spot while we travel across Russia in a private train with blacked-out windows and a staff of six. I still don't know what four of them do.