On the top deck of a ferry liner, presumably on its way to Brittany on a cold autumn noon, Junie stood straight, leaving behind the nearly invisible Dieppe harbour. The grizzly wind swept her hair across her face, hiding the emphatic tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

Her mind was racing back to what she had said to Nemours a day earlier; the fact that human love will eventually fade and that the only person who had loved her all his life was Otto. A naïveté, Otto took his own life upon knowing the brewing of emotions between Junie and the adulterous Nemours.

Nemours was dumbfounded when he learned that Junie had left Paris. He thought that he would be crazy without the presence of Junie by his side. But eventually, just as Junie had predicted, Nemours’ love for her will fade. Pretty soon Nemours would find another belle personne to suit his emotional eccentricities.

At what cost? An innocent boy who was madly in love had died. A girl had to leave everything all behind to start anew. Les vraies belles personnes.