“One people, one France!” he shouted.
“One people, one France!” the vast audience chanted in thunderous devotion.
Dray flung his arms outward, demanding quiet.
Stanislas shifted toward the Fiat. He had seen enough. Dray would finish his oration. Dray would receive the rapturous blessings of his admirers. Dray would triumph and grow in stature. He must look after himself, he decided, and get some sleep. A loud pop pop pop stung the air. He glanced back as a startled Dray jumped. Notes flew into the aisle near the first row.
Someone from behind must have bumped him. But no, it was something else, of course, Stanislas realized as he caught Dray’s eyes dart away from the podium’s edge. Dray’s brows dipped in a severe frown while he struggled to reassert his rhythm. “France is…it must…desti
