Eric, I've known her since my first trip to the States 6 years ago. I' ve spoken to you often about her.

You know I went to the States 6 years ago for the first time. Since I had virtually no money I took an "au pair" position as a French teacher in a summer school for young upper- class girls, in American sociological terms. Awful girls...

When school was over, she introduced me to her parents to whom she'd spoken a good deal about me. They were staying in a nearby hotel. ...They had sent her to the school, but sojourned in the nearest hotel. They invited me to dinner as a gesture of thanks, and her father passed me a folded $10 bill. Of course, I turned it down.

The girl was shocked. A tip like you'd give the gardener. She gave her father a look...and got up and walked away.

/I followed/ and asked her what was wrong. She burst out sobbing. I asked her again what was wrong: "My parents are not my parents, I was adopted." "At what age?" "Six months."

"So don't you think that makes them your parents? Six months. They've had long enough to get to know you."

"They chose me, I didn't choose them." "Do you know anyone who got to choose his parents?"

Impossible to make her laugh: "Do you want me to talk to them?" "It won't do any good, they tell you one thing me another."

Poor kid, she put all her heart into it - just wanted to come next year to Paris to me, to better her French. Since she wanted to be a teacher it would only help. I told her I 'd explained to them that I ' d be happy to welcome you if you came next year, and they said that was very nice.

"It does no good talking to them, to you they 'll say yes, to me no."

One morning early on a Sat. the doorbell rang: "Western Union."

Telegram. ...And I read: Arriving Orly February 10, 12.20 PM, local time TWA flight.....