The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. She had not seen him in two and a half centuries. At the same time, I must say that I am most anxious to improve my acquaintance with her. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London.
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