“I think he died happy,” Sheena murmured.
“He was certainly very gay and happy on the journey,” Madame Bonnet reminisced.
Her face softened again as if at the remembrance of those gay hours when they had laughed and joked and sung. Sheena had the impression that in a life full of hard work such interludes were few and far between.
“And now,” Sheena said, “I have something else to ask of you. Can you recommend somewhere I can lodge for tonight? I can afford to pay.”
“You must come here,” Madame Bonnet replied. “I can put you up a bed in Renée’s room.”
“No, I will not impose on you,” Sheena protested. “There must be some lodgings that are clean and reasonable in this neighbourhood. I shall only be staying until after the funeral.”
“You could go to a friend of ours next door,” Madame Bo
