I suppose I was too deep into my own grief to notice, but I find it curious that I never thought about it until now. I almost feel guilty for not doin... something to help, but that is an absurd thought! How could I, a child of nine years, have been of any possible help? The Comte was a grown man. He did not need my help. It was the Comte, who helped me by not sending me to an orphanage and allowing me to live in the chateau. How odd it is that I should feel this way ... I have never felt a. He told me there was something, which could help, andwe'd discuss it the next time we were together.Soon after this conversation, when I came over on a Saturday (everyWednesday, Friday and Saturday) and after I had cleaned up and had hislaundry in the washer I walked into the living room with a beer for him.He was sitting in his lounger with just his briefs and a t-shirt. In hislap was the remote and another small white box with a black ribbon thistime.Did I tell you he had tattoos on both his. More

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