“OK. Maggie is suffering under pretty harsh restrictions; in a way, they’re even worse than the ones you imposed on Liz, and Maggie didn’t reall... do anything other than go to church with me, read some Orthodox books, and say some Orthodox prayers. I mean, I could at least understand somewhat if she and I had fooled around, but we didn’t.”“And you think her dad knows that? Or is he thinking like Deacon Vasily?”I shrugged, “Maggie and I were never really alone. I mean, there were times we sat in. ”He glanced inside then stepped back. I indicated a patio table and pulled out a chair for him. “Sit. This won’t take long; then you can go back to what you were doing.”Reluctantly, he sat. “It’s your home, and I am your guest,” he said as he emptied what was left of his wine, the French accent reappearing.“Où en France As-tu grandi?” I suddenly asked him where in France he grew up. He stared at me. I let fly more French than I’d spoken in years. I looked it all up first to make sure I had it. More

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