[Marguerite is sitting in the middle of her living room, with her back to the windows whose curtains are drawn, letting sunlight pour in - spilling onto her bare arms and hands, fingers gripping a bag of sweets. She looks perfectly relaxed, in her white lace dress that, like everything else in the room - the vases, the figurines and the flowers, has been bought with Meyer Lansky's money.]

Let it be said of Marguerite Gautier that she prefers bonbons over witchcraft, that her ambitions rarely extend beyond the burning desire for a new necklace and that she may be described as cunning and tenacious, but she would much rather be called beautiful.

[With a slight laugh, she puts the bag of sweets aside and reaches up to run her fingers through her hair which is hanging loose around her shoulders.]

How much of one's self can't be revealed over the course of a single weekend, a single day, a single hour...?

[As she leans forward to change the settings on the network device, strands of hair obscure the view of the camera, leaving her features in shadow for a moment.]

( private video to meyer lansky )