'She opened her eyes. A brisk little breeze had impudently slipped into the bedroom. Already it had turned the curtain into a sail and bent the flowers in their tall vase on the floor, and now it had set its sights on her sleep. It was a spring wind, the very first one, and it smelled of thickets, forests and soil; it had swept unchallenged through the faubourgs of Paris, through their streets choked with traffic fumes, and now it was arriving softly but brashly at dawn in her bedroom, intent on reminding her, even before she emerged from her drowsy state, of the pleasure of being alive.' Francoise Sagan That Mad Ache
It was the perfect warm summer's read. It's about love. It's about fear. It's about passion. It's about convention. It's about not wanting to grow up.
This is how I imagine Lucile to be.

And if you haven't read it but like the opening passage? Do treat yourself.
Escape into another world.
This would be her bedroom.