p-r-e-z-e-l-a-y

Updated: June 7, 2025

There, beneath my finger, lay the village of Bleau, a tiny dot; and from it, straight into the war zone, the traced line ran through Le Moreau and Croix-le-Valois and St. Remilly; ran to what was the name? I spelled it out: P-r-e-z-e-l-a-y. Though it was early in the game to be a wet blanket, I found myself gasping. "But," I protested weakly, "you can't do that!

Marion Polk Angellotti - The Firefly of France