M. Bernard announced a few mornings later. “I must be gone a few weeks. As promised, you shall safeguard my keys.” He held out the iron ring and I took it, trying to hide my excitement. It was weightier than I had expected. “Are you ready for such a ‘heavy’ responsibility?” he asked with laughter, but also with a certain consideration. “I hope so.” “You may use all except three. This one”—he showed a plain black key with scratches on the shaft—“goes to the churchyard gate. And this one”—he held up an enormous key with a cross shape piercing the head—“opens the chapel. This last unlocks the folly. Those places are unsafe and I must forbid them. All the rest I make you free with, including this brass one, which goes to the tantalizing bookshelves. See how I trust you?” “Thank you, Monsieur.” He kissed the top of my head and left. I had M. Bernard’s keys. At last. I inspected the east wing, which was still allegedly under renovation. It was indeed still under renovation.
What do You think about Strands Of Bronze And Gold?
