He stood outside of the car, bewildered, as she walked up to the BMW’s front bumper. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy. Leastways, not on your own. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. "When I heard of your escape, I felt sure I should see you.
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