Page 59 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘I have not asked you to pay.’

‘I don’t have anything I want to know.’

‘I think you do – that’s why I asked Jean to send you to me.’

‘I’m just here to work, Madame.’ Michel stood and pulled his hand away.

‘But what of the woman you wish to cherish?’

Michel stopped. ‘Cherish?’

‘That is what you feel, is it not?’

Michel sat down heavily in the chair. ‘How do you know?’

‘I know many things, Michel. Some of it I see, plain as day, when no one is looking.’

‘You saw us?’

‘I have seen the way you look at her.’

‘I just think she is pretty,’ he said stupidly.

‘Just pretty? No. Michel. There is more. What do you want to know?’

Michel gave her his hand again; she grabbed it strongly between her fingers.

‘Is Bertrand, my friend, all right? Is he well?’

‘Your friend is well.’ She studied his palm. ‘But that is not the question you wish to ask.’

‘Will the war end?’

‘Yes.’

‘Will I be safe?’

‘Yes. But again, Michel, you are not asking the right question.’

He took a deep breath in. ‘Will I be alone in my life?’

‘Sometimes, yes. But you will think it is the end when it is not. Remember this. Do not be disheartened.’

‘Can I ask you something else?’

‘Yes. Anything.’

‘And you will tell me the truth?’

‘If I can see it, then I shall tell you the truth.’

‘Will Frieda leave Werner? Will her heart be mine?’

Madame Rosie dropped Michel’s hand. She leaned back in her chair for a moment, then from a pocket in her scarlet dress she took out a stick of incense. She lit it, and from it a strange scent and smoke filled the tent.

‘She loves many,’ her voice said through the cloud.

As the smoke dissipated, Michel saw Madame Rosie through the gloom, her eyes too bright, her gold tooth shining. He felt his head swim and dip.