This afternoon--I have no words to write on it. None.
Jean, Erik Lensherr sends his regards.
He makes me feel like a fool.
Or a child.
I am not certain which, or even, which would be worse.
I believe I would like to speak with Mariska at some point. That is the girl I carried onto the jet, is that correct? If she is up to it -- if I am.
(
'You will be keeping them.' (Erik) )