“Who taught you all this?” I asked Charley.
“Diego taught me to drive and basic on-the-road repairs,” Charley said. “Necessity taught me the rest.”
We collected Tilly, mulishly conceding that she had been shown some pleasant Parisian sights, and drove her and all our trunks to Gare de Lyon and saw her off. Tilly leaned out out the window like an abandoned orphan child and gave us plaintive, beseeching reminders to be careful.
As dusk began to fall, we returned back to the center of Paris as the streetlights were flickering on, ready to turn in for an early night while the rest of Paris was coming out to play.
“Well, Charley?” Matthias’s expression was resigned, without hope, the proverbial fool one heard spoken of in relation to lost causes.
“We’ll see you bright and early at the Ritz
