WAIT FOR DAWN

Un petit rien in sweet and susurrant prose (Anne Philipe is Gerard Philipe's widow) about Marie, apparently alone, and Constance her daughter, twelve. A transparency of images and interchanges (obviously the film technique) in which they take tea, or walks in the sun, or Mummy keeps a bedside vigil, or they talk about miniskirts or archaeology or love and change. Most of this vaporizes right off the page since it's so ineffably ineffable to begin with.