... and alone. I turned and looked 3 or 4 times at her. I wanted to wheel her out of there and down the beautiful roads of South France, even if it meant her dying. Muriel says she's been praying for death for years. After that we left and drove back to Ville Bazy and suddenly stopped in front of a house. Everyone sat in silence, then Muriel's mom got out and rattled off something in German. We were stopping to have drinks with someone. We all got out of the car and went into the yard. We sat down and had 2 pastis for about an hour and a half. We then wandered back up to the house where dinner was promptly started. I read and Muriel continued painting for about another hour and a half. Everything happens in that increment of time...