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Gamache knew she was sincere but doubted she did know He looked down at his hands, loose fists on the table He was silent, and into that silence, as always, crept the young voice More familiar now than those of his own children

"And then at Christo to hers for réveillon and " The voice went on and on about trivial, e life A voice that was no longer tinny in his ears, but living now in his brain, hisAd infinitum

"I’m sorry, madame, I can’t help you"

He watched the older wouessed Slim, with beautiful bone structure She wore little makeup, just some around the eyes, and lipstick If less was e of cultured restraint Her suit wasn’t the latest fashion, but it was classic and would never be out of style

She’d introduced herself as Elizabeth MacWhirter and even Gamache, not a native of Quebec City, knew that name The MacWhirter Shipyards MacWhirter paper mills in the north of the province

"Please We need your help"

He could tell this plea had cost her, because she knehat a position it put him in And still, she’d done it He hadn’t quite appreciated how desperate she must be Her keen blue eyes never left his

"Désolé," he said, softly but firives me no pleasure to say that And if I could help, I would But" He didn’t finish He didn’t even knoould come after the "but"

She smiled "I’ive ht and Inspector Langlois will be just fine"

"I understand that the night is a strawberry," said Gahtly

"Oh, you heard about that, did you?" Elizabeth ses Reads French perfectly, you knoays the highest marks in school, but can’t seem to speak it Her accent would stop a train"

"Inspector Langloisabout her birth"

"That didn’t help," Elizabeth adain