I took a last harsh drag off my cigarette and rolled toward the nightstand by the rail to put it out. The cane still hung on the railing and one of the blue jewel eyes caught and refracted the low flickering flame of one of the lamps. I felt her hand run over my back as I watched my dragon wink at me. "Poppy, tell me the story behind that cane."

"Sure," she said, looking up at the ceiling. "It was France and I was Louis Lucas de Nehon. I remember it was raining when she arrived. The large rain drops hissed as they fell down the smokestack and into the furnace..."

1 Poppy’s use of Cognomina here appears to be an archaic reference to the Roman naming convention of a third “known as” name called a cognomen. This name could either be inherited or adopted.

2 Poppy’s reference to being Louis Lucas de Nehon can be directly corroborated from several sources. Louis Lucas de Nehon (also spelled Nehou in some texts). In 1999 French author Jean-Claude Lattes worked with the Compagnie de Saint-Gobain to compile a comprehensive history of the company. Louis Lucas de Nehou was detailed as having been director of St. Gobain twice. There is even a photo of Nehou displayed on page 21. From Sun to Earth 1665-1999 A History of Saint-Gobain.

9

The large rain drops hissed as they fell down the smokestack and into the furnace. Louis checked the iron pot inside the fiery hearth then realigned the flat square copper forms on the dark green granite work table.

"Monsieur, Monsieur," shouted his valet Serge from behind the door.

"Not now!" he growled as he bent over the forms.

"But Monsieur, it is Madame Ruebal to see you," he said apologetically through the workshop door.

"Ruebal...Ruebal..." Louis said softly to himself as he readjusted his adjustments. "Ramsay!" he exclaimed, straightening up and knocking the whole work table out of alignment. "Damn. Damn it to hell!"

"Sir?" Serge asked poking only his head around the door.

"Well, show him in," Louis said, throwing up his arms in disgust.

"Sir?"

"Her, I'm sorry. Show her in."

"Very good sir." His head disappeared behind the door and a moment later she stepped through. She was a small woman, standing less than five feet tall and weighing about ninety pounds. Her red velvet, doll-like dress was unbuttoned at the top and spotted with dirt.

"Ah, the lovely Ms. Ruebal. Always a pleasure," Louis said, taking her child-like right hand in his as he kissed the black tattoo on her fair skin. "That will be all Serge."

"Yes sir," he said as he closed the door.

Louis stepped back and looked at her from head to foot. She had fair milky white skin, warm disarming brown eyes, and brown hair tucked up under a dirty black velvet hat that lay crooked on her head. "My goodness, you look like hell."