"...No. No, I don't think we knew the darkest fate for our city. Aside from the fact that our Paris existed, and she doesn't always."
Suddenly it's the sort of conversation that makes Bahorel wish he had a drink. But there's no thought of not telling Prouvaire what he saw, now that they're trading stories.
"The little Paris with the masquerade wasn't the only one we saw-- not the only one I saw, anyway. There was a room off one side of the Labyrinth, with a window looking out on a Paris sized much more like our own. It looked... quiet. Very tame." Jehan, at least, will understand the terror of that observation. "I'm not sure if Feuilly saw it; we weren't in the room long. It was a law office, so you can imagine." It's grim news to tell a friend, but he makes himself say it. "My law office. There was portrait. There was a plaque."
no subject
Suddenly it's the sort of conversation that makes Bahorel wish he had a drink. But there's no thought of not telling Prouvaire what he saw, now that they're trading stories.
"The little Paris with the masquerade wasn't the only one we saw-- not the only one I saw, anyway. There was a room off one side of the Labyrinth, with a window looking out on a Paris sized much more like our own. It looked... quiet. Very tame." Jehan, at least, will understand the terror of that observation. "I'm not sure if Feuilly saw it; we weren't in the room long. It was a law office, so you can imagine." It's grim news to tell a friend, but he makes himself say it. "My law office. There was portrait. There was a plaque."
"I set it on fire." He finishes calmly.
It was the only possible response.