Mevrouw Rosamund looked less than her fifty-six years and I had the impression of nobility in her upbringing, but of course I did not like to ask.Five...feet six inches in height, she was a slim woman of regal posture and well-cut features. She always wore her honey-gold hair piled up in permanent waves, the style being reminiscent of the inter-war period. Her eyes were pale blue, puckered at the corners by crows' feet and wrinkles from so much smiling. Her lips formed a delicate line which. Then she caused a lump in my throat when she looked at me with gratitude in her eyes and silently mouthed the words ‘thank you.’ I just nodded and smiled, and then I decided the time was right and said, “So Joe, you said you didn’t want to go to the prom because high school k**s were immature… what about taking a college girl?” “And what college girl would go to a prom with me,” he said, trying to find a safe zone. “What about me?” I said, not about to let him off the hook. “You,” he asked,. More

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