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The telephone rang. “He proposed. We’re coming to Paris for our honeymoon. Wow, the most romantic place on earth! I’m counting on you to send me a list of all the wonderful places we can go see,” whispered my friend over the phone. Her betrothed must have been in the next room and she didn’t want him to hear what she was saying.
“Forget about
Paris,” I said. She asked what I meant: weren’t I feeling well? Did I not love Paris anymore? “Mount Saint Michel,” I said. “I’ll book you a hotel on Mount Saint Michel and you’ll thank me!”

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