Lea Papin: Tell me a story.
Christine Papin: Oh.
Lea Papin: Just one before we go down.
Christine Papin: Which one?
Lea Papin: Um, when I was little.
Christine Papin: You're still little.
Lea Papin: No, I mean really little. The one with the horse.
Christine Papin: Don't you ever get tired of it?
Lea Papin: No, tell me.
Christine Papin: When you were just a tiny thing, mama sent me out one day to get bread. You came with me the way you always did. And as we were walking, you let go of my hand and ran into the street.
Lea Papin: Tell it slower. you're telling it too fast.
Christine Papin: It was a long narrow street. You remember... on a hill. At the top of the hill, a horse and carriage was galloping down, right towards you. I ran into the street. I pulled you across. I pushed you down in the gutter with me... what a noise when the horse galloped by. And everyone was screaming. And when we stood up, we were both bleeding. But it was the same wound. It started on my arm and went down across your wrist. And look, we have it still.
Lea Papin: And mama, what did she say?
Christine Papin: Mama, you know how she gets. She screamed at us.
Lea Papin: And then what happened?
Christine Papin: Well, then there was the gypsy. Mad Marguerite they used to call her.
Lea Papin: And what did she say?
Christine Papin: You... you know it so well.
Lea Papin: No, tell me again, Christine. Tell me again.
Christine Papin: They're bound for life, Mad Marguerite said... bound in blood.
