22Just before dawn Antoinette woke with a start. She was used to sleeping alone, used to the noises of the château and Grizou’s stirrings, and was unsure what had disturbed her. But it hardly mattered, she thought, swinging her thin legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. She rested there a moment, not feeling quite ready to face another day. A soft light, just a faint glow, came in through the leaded windows of her bedroom. She heard a whistling wind, a sound she loved.
In the bathroom she stood before the mirror and gazed at herself. She saw that her nose was too long and bulbous at the end, her lips too thin. She sighed and reached for her toothbrush.
“Grizou,” she murmured, feeling the dog’s nose at the back of her knee. “Dear, sweet friend.” She turned to him and got down on t
