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In order to stress his name, KristalClear quickly decides to walk to the kitchen, and says, “Maman, I’ll put the kettle on. You sit down and chat with Dave and I’ll be back in a moment.”
She reaches the kitchen door, looks back, tries tuning in on the wavelength again, and seems to detect something faint, or perhaps she’s imagining it?
NutJob is pleading, something like, « don’t leave me alone with her. »
Calmly KristalClear says, “is Papa home yet? I’ll make a pot of tea for all of us,” and she vanishes from sight!
“She thinks you’re rather sweet you know!” says Mme. Troyes, “and she says they call you NutJob at school! Do you really carry everything in your pencil case?”
Trying to sound nonchalant, NutJob surprises himself with a half decent response.
“Everything? Well, lots of handy things anyway!”
“And tweezers? Kristal told me about the tweezers and the day she got a splinter from the desk.”
Enthusiastically, Mme. Troyes continues to tell NutJob the story he already knows.
“And how you gave them to her, and she couldn’t get the splinter out by herself. And then how you held her hand still, so gently and calmly and …”
“Oh Maman!” exclaims KristalClear, stepping back into the front room.
“… and you drew out the tiny wooden splinter, effortlessly, first time.” Mme. Troyes pauses. “She said your hands were so calm. That you have craftsman’s hands. Small, perfectly formed just like …”
“Maman!”
The door opens.
“Darling, I’m home. Oh hello! You must be Dave? Henri Troyes. Call me Henry. Makes life easier for everyone!”
“How do you do?” says NutJob, remembering his best manners.
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