May 15, 2005 15:26
Pointless Juilliard drabble, because clearly I have no homework what are you thinking of.
Dissemblance
He wondered how much Meligot really knew about him, sometimes. He had perfected the accent, he knew, and none of the French agents there had ever noticed a discrepancy, although Itz had come uncomfortably close... He had taken out a map and planned easy references to his childhood in Bordeaux, should he be asked. He was positive his story was complete.
But Mêlée had been the one to find him, and sometimes when he made a particularly disparaging comment about the British, she would acquire a terribly serious look and agree fervently.
…He didn’t really wonder so much as dread.