Victoire always liked it when foreigners told her Paris was like home. She suddenly felt like she had something in common with them then, because Paris had always been her home and it always would be.
She finished her cigarette and put it out in the small glass ashtray next to her. "My husband, he was from Russia. We were going to visit before this terrible war started." It wasn't often that Victoire talked about Yuri, and maybe it was the drink or maybe it was Jackie's kind face and soothing voice, but she didn't mind talking about him just then.