Percival Browne visits his daughter’s school for the first time. Poor Polly, her mother died too young and she has been left alone for too many years. Madame Dubonnet recognizes Percy the moment he steps inside her drawing room. How could she forget? The affair was kindled by the flames of war, a war recovered from and willfully forgot. The flame was hot and quick, extinguished in the chaos of armistice. Time moves forward without stopping and all at once we are strangers to each other. How is it a person once so beautiful is now so old? What happens to a life when we look away? Madame Dubonnet’s remembering is as significant to Percival Browne as an armchair. Remembering for him is an embarrassing project.