Yesterday, inspired by the girl in the trench, I worked by the fading light of all the Juliette Greco I could find. So weary Juliette, so pacific Juliette, so loved Juliette...Miles didn't hear me sing until much later in New York, at the Waldorf-Astoria. Before that, to him, I was just me, a girl with a strange face, and it was me he loved, which made me happy.
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