When I was released from prison 

My father ordered me to stay 

In his Potiers house 

As I had brought shame on my family 

I reluctantly agreed to this isolation 

She was weeping 

Having been robbed 

By a couple of Arabs 

I took her back to the house 

To help her recover from the ordeal 

She seemed thankful for her advantage 

We spoke but were mainly silent 

I suggested the blue room 

As it faced the early sun 

The girl was still disturbed

As she thought her attackers 

Might return although distant 

I assured her that I would stay alert 

The following morning

I walked along the passage 

That led to my unused bedroom 

She was sitting on her dappled sheets 

Having recently bathed 

I expected an embarrassment or worse 

But she just smiled and wished me the morning 

Later we took tea on the terrace 

I had made arrangements 

With her parents to pick her up 

When she was gone I soon realised 

That I had not asked her name 

So I called her Julia