You are not from Oxford, no? A foreign student, perhaps?”Sandrine laughed. “Not a student, no. My friend and I,” she motioned to Amélie, “wor... in a print shop. Gérard is enrolled at B— College. We are from, well, it doesn’t matter. In the Caribbean. I was born in Martinique.”“Ah,” answered Jonathan. “That explains it.” He was silent for a moment. His look was penetrating but not discourteous. “Ladies, will you excuse us for a moment?” He turned to Gérard. “May I have a word with you in private,. She said, "Daniel's a treat. You'll like him."He turned out to be a typical teen kid with slick-backed blond hair - a good looking kid who, for some reason, wore no shirt. Probably he was featuring his new developing body, the taut shoulders and muscled arms that kids his age like to flaunt. Hey, I was sixteen once so I understood.He said, "Sorry dude. The order isn't ready but we can deliver it this afternoon."I didn't hear him clearly because I was distracted. My eyes were glued to the snake. More

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