Emmanuelle was frozen by the unreality of the unfolding scene, while her blonde-haired progeny -- near-identical copies of herself -- knelt before an ...ssembled mass of men to have their heads removed by terrible strokes from an ancient blade.“For your pyre, Angelique...” I whispered to myself, so soft that I could barely hear my own words. “A promise fulfilled...”I turned to Emmanuelle to see her swaying on her feet.“Stay with me, mother,” I hissed and slapped her across a white cheek. “You. When she returns, she says, "I'll tell you soon. Perhaps tonight. I'll cook too."She turns this way and that, absorbed in her preparations for the day. Wardrobe doors flung apart, a still-naked Caroline reaches inside, her outstretched arm leafing through hanging clothes like they're hanging from the racks at Chelsea Girl. Joe will never tire watching her, her movements as if choreographed have visceral elegance. He sees it clearly in the way her body appears to elongate as it follows the lead. More

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