A snicker. "No. You can definitely take photos of me."
He fishes in his back pocket and produces a dog-eared black-and-white photo out of his wallet, which he tosses to Cal.
"See, proof." It's faded with time, and shows someone who's clearly Sam with his arms around a pretty, unmistakably chic young woman in a beret and old-fashioned combat clothes. On the back it says in faded, elegantly-scripted French July 1942. To my Luc. Love Annette.
"Ex-girlfriend. Anyway. It's more like... chucking water on a load of live wires. That sort of reaction."
no subject
He fishes in his back pocket and produces a dog-eared black-and-white photo out of his wallet, which he tosses to Cal.
"See, proof." It's faded with time, and shows someone who's clearly Sam with his arms around a pretty, unmistakably chic young woman in a beret and old-fashioned combat clothes. On the back it says in faded, elegantly-scripted French July 1942. To my Luc. Love Annette.
"Ex-girlfriend. Anyway. It's more like... chucking water on a load of live wires. That sort of reaction."