“Not a park in that sense, no. One for…” She gestures vaguely. “For the entertainment of humans but designed to look like a certain time in history.” That probably doesn’t help. “No, I was awake, but not to what I was, where I was. I didn’t know I wasn’t human.”

Maeve, to her credit, does not laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself, darling. I’m not offended.” She pats his arm. “I have been told France no longer exists back home, but I had someone once who liked me for more than sex.” And she loved him. Still does. “He was killed, but…I don’t think he would truly understand French poetry or hieroglyphics. He was more a man of action than intellect. But that never truly bothered me.”