He waved his flashlight in an arc above his head and repeated the two words, a quake in his voice.
He emerged from the shadow world in a luxurious penthouse suite in Paris overlooking the Arc de Triomphe.
They were in a burnt-out room…with the Arc de Triomphe a short distance away.
Edith at first looked shocked, but almost at once, her face melted to a resigned look—a condemned maiden mounting the guillotine steps, Joan of Arc as the match ignited her pyre.
All right, give me a C.