” “But my love is different.” I said, “How is it different?” she asked, puzzled. “I see you as the most beautiful woman.” She chuckled....“I know I am beautiful.”“but I am serious.” I said firmly .“serious about what mf.?” she asked with a dropped jaw.“I am serious that I like you indeed.!”“I like you too you are my handsome boy.”“Not that, I like you but not as a mother,”she got blushed while she was staring at me trying to show me an anger face but I could see the woman in her eyes.Suddenly. So we sat in silence as we sped through the busy traffic to a leafy suburb near Versailles, and were deposited outside a well-kept old house with a circular driveway leading to a varnished front door with shining brass furniture. It opened as soon as we approached, and Monique was standing there, dressed in a black silk kimono, her arms open in greeting. Jean-Paul was stood behind her, dressed in a track-suit, and they both looked pleased to see us. After we had freshened up, we sat down to a. More

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