December 19th Henri Pierre Gasquet hesitated before knocking on his father’s office door. They’d shared breakfast together less than an hour ago and talked over many things, including Henri’s killer schedule for the next several months. The King had given no indication of the need for a formal meeting this morning. With a fatalistic shrug, […]
A novel is balanced between a few true impressions and the multitude of false ones that make up most of what we call life.