Chapter Four
The inn by the lake had been in the Fauré family the entire 100 years of its long life. Its fortunes came and went with whomever in the family lineage happened to be living there. Like the undulating seasons—it had its spring revivals that lasted almost decades when a visionary Fauré awakened its tired rooms, patios, and gardens from their weariness, bringing about a renaissance of fresh-faced activity and opulence. After a time, a less industrious Fauré would be content to sit on his or her ass, and doing little, the inn would decline into a summer of languid decadence. The grass would remain uncut and the gardens untrimmed, left to wallow in a more primitive sensuality. The lavish parties might continue for some time on the inspiration of this more sentient Fauré, but summe
