"Science wants to know," I murmured, "Is Paris a place or a thing?"
Hannah exhaled sharply through her nose, that was her particular way of pounding the table in a fit of hilarity. "It's a person," she said. "A character in a novel."
People will tell you with a perfectly straight face that "Paris will always be Paris." And I guess it's true, Paris is Paris in a way that, say, Buffalo is not Buffalo...I was already twenty-five. John was twenty-nine. But what I didn't know was that despite being all grown up and on our own, despite the ring and the license, we were basically still dating, we weren't married. Not only did I know nothing about the world and only a little about myself, I didn't have a clue as to who this guy was I had hooked up with. It happened to be in Paris, where I had all the time in the world, and thanks to two clairvoyants, a clochard, and Inspector Maigret, that I found out.
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Janet McMahon's other titles include Departure, also printed at McNally Jackson.
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