model, muse and mistress of reknowned photographer, Jacques Henri Lartigue
"half past five at the Embassy. I wait for my 'parasol' from last night. I need a whiskey. I'm very shy deep down, and ready to be furious if she doesn't show up. My curiosity would be most disappointed..."
"Five thirty-five. There she is! Can it really be her? Ravishing, tall, slim, with a small mouth and full painted lips, and dark porcelain eyes. She casts aside her fur coat in a gust of warm perfume.
We're going to dance. Mexican? Cuban? Her small head sits on a very long neck. She is tall; her mouth is at the level of my chin. When we dance my mouth is not far from her mouth. Her hair brushes against both."