If Chéri had heard Gabriel’s doubts about their nature, they would have made a point of reassuring him of their divine nature, possibly just to get distracted by doming something familiar and fun. But they didn’t know. Thank God.

Gabriel sat next to Chéri and Chéri nodded. With a little bit of suspicion, they answered “France.” Because as much wasn’t obvious “Are you from Whitby?” Chéri wasn’t good at small talk, but it felt kind of owed, considering the were in Père Rischàrds kitchen. They looked eagerly at the bread.